


Lying on a Marshmallow

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Series: All These Burning Hearts in Hell [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Blankets, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dehumanization, Food Issues, Gen, Gentleness, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, Robots, Sexual Slavery, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Threetoo's first full day together, featuring many tests and even more rewards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feanor_in_leather_pants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanor_in_leather_pants/gifts).



> Many thanks to Medved, Ylixia, and feanorinleatherpants for their input and encouragement, and to everyone else who has been both enthusiastic about and patient in waiting for this story! HAPPY INCREDIBLY BELATED BIRTHDAY, Feanor!
> 
> This story is tagged Choose Not to Warn not because I don't want to let you know what you're getting into, but as an acknowledgment that it is a potentially rough ride and I don't think I can account for everything that might need warning for, so read cautiously if the tags or premise give you cause for concern, and let me know if there's something I've missed from the tag list!
> 
> Food Issues & Weight Issues revolve around Threetoo having been starved and having other programmed food issues and being on a specific plan to reintroduce food and regain weight. Ableist language refers both to things Threetoo remembers others having said about his capacities and to the language Tony uses in talking about Threetoo's possible recovery.

32557038 woke to an ominous sensation of wetness, and an even more ominous throb of pain at his temples--punishment arriving even before he grasped his transgression. 

The cause soon became obvious: he was lying on a blanket, under another, with his head on a pillow. He was collared, but otherwise unrestrained and alone.

Worse, he had pissed all over the soft blankets he had dared to wrap himself up in. There would be no concealing what he had done. The punishment was already beginning, the pain in his head intensifying with every beat of his heart. 

He crawled awkwardly away from the scene of his crime, his belly and thighs wet with the evidence of what he had done. He scrambled toward his cage. He might not be punished more than what was already starting if he showed proper remorse. If he put himself away where he belonged. 

32557038 tugged the door of the cage shut after him until the lock engaged with a click, and curled up there on his side. He tried to breathe through the rising throb of pain; his breath left him in little voiceless puffs that could have been keening cries of pain, but he had long since learned better than to make a sound.

He knew better than to leave his cage. He knew better than to sleep in a soft bed when his master was not there requiring his service.

His master...

32557038 turned his head, feeling the weight of the collar fastened around his throat. Through the throbbing pain the memory came into focus: his master had fastened the collar there last night.

His new master. His new master, who had _new rules_.

32557038 froze in abject horror, opening his eyes to look out of the cage at the pillow and blankets.

His master had told him he could only wear the collar if he rested his head on the pillow. 32557038 had left the pillow and couldn't get back to it, having locked himself into his cage. He should have lain in his own piss all night; his master had told him to lie there. His master had granted him that place as a reward and he had spurned it, soiled it. He had been ungrateful--he had _disobeyed_ \--

32557038 wound his fingers into his hair and tugged hard as the punishment clamped down, an invisible brutal weight crushing in on his temples. Lights flashed around him, inescapable despite his closed eyes. Surveillance was capturing everything he had done, showing his master how effective the automated punishment was. He writhed under the pain, expecting his skull to fracture under the pressure any moment, waiting for the blood pounding in his ears to burst out. 

Instead he heard a door open.

32257038 froze.

"Hey," his master said softly. "Hey, Threetoo, what's--"

 _You're allowed to look_ , his master had said. _You're allowed to answer. If it hurts, flap your hand._

He had never rescinded any of those orders. 

Threetoo forced his eyes open despite the pain and the fear of worse things that must follow from his flagrant disobedience. His master was crouched outside his cage again. He was dressed very differently than last night, in worn jeans and layered t-shirts. The sneakers he wore were battered, his hair disheveled. He was holding a cup of steaming coffee. 

32557038's mouth watered at the rich, sweet smell; at the same time he was sure that it was about to be thrown at him, scalding him. He flinched back, flapping his hand as he did for the pain he was already in and the anticipation of more.

His master frowned and set the coffee aside, reaching up to unlock the cage with a few quick taps of his fingers. "Hey, hey--what's--hey, Threetoo, come closer, come here."

Threetoo breathed out hard through his nose but pushed himself forward. He would obey, he would _submit_. He was still flapping his hand with every pulse of pain, so that his master would understand that the punishment was progressing.

"Hey," his master repeated. "Shit, what--okay, hey, here--"

His master's hand curled gently around the back of Threetoo's head, fingers rubbing softly against his scalp. 

Threetoo's breath stopped at the warm, soothing sensation of his master's gentle touch. 

"Okay, I need you to help me reconstruct events," his master said softly. "That's data that we need so we'll know how to proceed. Remember we talked about data last night?"

Threetoo blinked up at his master. His master looked down at him, waiting for an answer. Threetoo did remember about data--good data was important. Threetoo nodded cautiously.

"Okay, good, good answering." His master held up one finger. "That's one reward so far today, okay? I'm gonna keep count while we're doing this, and you'll get the rewards in a little while. Do you understand that? Show me the number we've counted so far."

Threetoo stopped flapping his hand and held up one finger.

His master smiled and raised another finger. "Good, perfect. Make it two."

Threetoo cautiously raised a second finger beside the first.

"All right. Now--you were flapping your hand, you're hurting?"

Threetoo nodded, although his master's touch eased the worst of the punishment-pain, banished the sick feeling from his stomach. Now that his eyes were open the only light he saw was the low, directionless illumination he remembered from the night before. Still, there were the lingering burns, and his ass hadn't fully healed yet. His belly ached, as did his stump, though it was vastly improved from the hot swollen hurt that had shrouded the last several days. Even if it was less, he was assuredly in pain.

"Okay, let's get you back out of there so I can have a look at--oh."

His master had shifted backward toward the blanket he had left Threetoo wrapped in. His hand was still on Threetoo's head, but Threetoo shrunk down in anticipation as his master looked back. Now his master knew what he had done. Now he would take his hand away and let the punishment descend in full force. 

"Okay, I think I see what happened, Threetoo. Are you--" His master's other hand skimmed down his body, finding where he was wet. Threetoo flinched again.

His master patted his hip. "It's all right, it washes off a hell of a lot easier than machine oil. It's okay. Were you asleep when you pissed?"

Threetoo nodded. His master's hand was still firmly pressed to the curve of his skull. Still holding the pain at bay. 

His master was looking into his eyes, and he didn't sneer at this excuse. "Okay. That's not your fault, Threetoo, you couldn't have prevented that. I should have made sure to wake you up earlier so you could get to the bathroom--but this is good, it means you were sleeping soundly, and it means you're rehydrated. Those are important steps to getting you healthy again, and that's what I'm focused on right now. This," his master waved his other hand over Threetoo's midsection, "is just a minor fluid leak, we'll clean it up. Not a problem."

Threetoo stared at his master in bewilderment. It had sounded, just then, like his master was saying that _he_ had made a mistake. But that--that couldn't be--

No. His master had said _not a problem_. His master didn't consider this important. If it weren't important, and didn't interfere with his master's goals, then his master would have no need to punish Threetoo for the lapse. That was all. It was beneath his master's concern, so his master had permitted it to happen. There would be no punishment because it was a matter of no concern to his master whether Threetoo pissed himself. 

Threetoo let out a breath, relaxing as he fully understood. Nothing important had happened. The pain in his head was mere background noise now, present but insignificant. Ignorable.

"Good," his master said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Threetoo's skull. "Good listening, that's three."

Threetoo raised a third finger.

"So you noticed that you had sprung a leak," his master said. "And your blankets were wet..."

Threetoo froze all over again. He'd forgotten for a moment that his true disobedience had not been the fluid leak but what he had done next.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," his master said quietly. "It's okay. Totally a normal reflex to move away from something wet like that, so you went to where you're used to hanging out, right? You were done sleeping, you didn't need the pillow anymore, you just went where you felt like you should be."

Threetoo nodded cautiously. 

"Okay," his master said. "So we have a sequence of events--fluid leak, moved away from the mess to your cage, got locked in. In the future we avoid the problem--regular bathroom breaks, maybe wake you up earlier. Maybe take the lock off this thing--" his master rapped his knuckles against the cage, "so you can't get stuck in there. Because I know that if I told you to stay in you would, wouldn't you?"

Threetoo's nod this time was vigorous; his master's grip shifted slightly on the back of his neck, allowing the motion and keeping contact.

"So we don't need a lock, then," his master concluded. "What we need is to get you cleaned up, get the rest of this mess taken care of, and get you some breakfast plus at least three rewards."

Threetoo's stomach made a shamefully hopeful grumbling noise at the idea of breakfast. Breakfast _and_ rewards? That was redundant. Or perhaps his master meant he had earned a more palatable breakfast--maybe there would be blueberries. Three blueberries?

His master reached behind himself again, catching a corner of the soiled blanket. He pulled around, peering at it to be sure that corner was dry, and used it to wipe the wetness from Threetoo's belly and legs, a quick, cursory touch.

"Okay," his master said, standing up and kicking the blankets into a heap. "Hang on, let me get a towel--"

Threetoo was already dry, but he was beginning to see that he would never be able to anticipate his master's generosity. Sure enough, his master fetched a clean dry towel and lay it down on the floor only to pat it and say, "Here, you come out and sit here for a sec, we'll get you washed up."

Threetoo dragged himself out. It was easier to move today than it had been last night, even with the lingering drumbeat of pain from the near miss thudding in his skull. He barely felt dizzy at all, and his various injuries hardly impeded him. He settled gingerly on the towel--his master had said _sit_ , so Threetoo rested his ass and feet on the towel, drawing his knees up and balancing himself with his hand on the floor. Being allowed to move at his own pace and choose his position meant the pressure on his ass wasn't really painful. Not enough to notice. 

His head hurt worse for a moment from the change in position. He blinked rapidly, struggling for equilibrium against a fresh wash of dizziness, but his vision stayed clear. He saw his master come back from the cupboard with a basin and cloth, just like the night before, but he was smiling now. He looked pleased.

"Sitting up! Awesome. Four for you, 32557038, it's good seeing you upright. Legs apart, let's wash you up."

Threetoo obeyed, shifting the position of his hand to steady himself. His master wrung out the cloth, bringing it to Threetoo's belly, just above where the hair grew around his dick. His master was thorough, cleaning his crotch and down to his thighs, but his touch was as indifferently gentle as it had been on his face and arm the night before. 

"There, how's that? Did I miss anything?"

Threetoo shook his head, and the room almost didn't swing around him at all. His master smiled and pulled up a corner of the towel to pat him dry. He hadn't touched Threetoo between his legs with his bare hand at all, only through the washcloth and towel. But then Threetoo's dick and balls weren't necessarily of interest--he'd done nothing to earn that kind of reward, and his master showed no sign of desiring that kind of service from him right now.

Threetoo had to get stronger in order to be able to be used properly. Only then would his master put him to the kind of use that might warrant a reward like that. For now Threetoo would be good. As long as he was good his master might smile at him, touch him gently, give him _breakfast_.

"Okay," his master said. "If you're all cleaned up, let's take a little field trip. You think you can get over there with me?"

His master indicated a door, opposite the one from the corridor. Darkness and silence lay beyond, a closet or store room or... It didn't matter what. If his master wanted Threetoo there, he would go. The room they were in was not large; it was only a distance of a few meters. 

Threetoo nodded to his master.

"Okay, here we go." His master stood, stepping around Threetoo to stand at the edge of the towel, facing their destination. He waited while Threetoo turned around. He waited while Threetoo gathered himself, balancing on his knees and one hand. When Threetoo looked up he took a short step forward, not more than Threetoo could match on his hand and knees.

They fell quickly into a rhythm. Threetoo was so full of fierce joy at being allowed to belong to such a master that his eyes prickled and his skin felt warm all over. He stayed exactly at his master's side until they reached the bottleneck of the doorway.

His master stepped briskly ahead, switching on a light. "Come on in, Threetoo."

Threetoo followed his master in. His master gestured and Threetoo obeyed, positioning himself on the soft mat in the center of the small room.

It was a bathroom, neither cramped nor extravagant, and very clean. All the surfaces were smooth ceramic, but another mat like the one Threetoo knelt on padded the floor in front of the toilet. There was a grab bar on the wall by the toilet, a plastic stool and another bar in the shower. Soap and towels and washcloths were set out on the counter. 

His master crouched in front of him. "You know how to use all this stuff, right?" 

Threetoo glanced around again, searching for some trick in that question; perhaps there was some unfamiliar object he would be required to use on himself. There was a safety razor on the counter that made him unpleasantly aware of the stubble on his face, which would not encourage touches from his master, but he knew how to use that. 

He looked at his master and nodded cautiously.

His master smiled. "Good. Okay. You are free to come into this room any time you feel the need, and you can use anything in this room whenever you need it. Toilet, shower, sink, any of the stuff in here, I want you to use it if you feel the need to, okay? Any time you need to take a piss, take a shit, any time you want to wash up or brush your teeth--"

Threetoo winced, touching his tongue to his teeth and feeling the days-old scum on them. His breath must be _awful_. His master was being kind again, reminding him so gently of the ways his condition was unacceptable.

"You can come in here. If I'm not around, just go for it. If I'm here with you and you need to use this room, you can tell me."

Threetoo licked his lips, parted them, tilted his head.

His master raised his eyebrows and said nothing. He held his expectant expression so clearly that it was almost a command itself.

Threetoo cautiously shifted his weight back toward his heels to free his hand and turned it palm up. He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows as he mouthed, _how?_

"Okay, I'm going to answer that in two parts, and the first part is that you need to remember for me that we are on five rewards now and one of them is _huge_." His master smiled widely and squeezed the top of his left shoulder. Threetoo couldn't imagine any reward better than that; he beamed back, almost forgetting the question his master was answering.

"You just asked me a question when you needed more information--that is _so good_ , Threetoo, I'm so glad you asked. And the actual answer to your question is, that's a good question, I haven't decided how you should tell me. We can have a signal--what kind of signal do you want? Point to the door?"

Threetoo swallowed. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to make such a purely declarative statement, even by gesture. 

"Remember how I need data, Threetoo," his master prompted gently. "Knowing you need to use the bathroom is also data. If I need you to wait for some reason, I'll tell you so, but you have to let me know that you need it, when you need it."

Threetoo licked his lips and then pointed over his shoulder to the door. 

He only meant to show that he could do it, to indicate to his master that he understood the command, but his master grinned and clapped his hands together. "Six! Six rewards, thanks for telling me you need the bathroom, Threetoo. Perfect. I'm going to go, you stay here and do whatever you need to do." 

His master stood, stepped past him, and opened a cabinet above the sink, touching something on a panel inside.

"Okay, sink tap is switched to motion sensing now, so you just wave your hand under it when you need to wash, okay? Take as much time as you need and knock on a cupboard door if you need help with something, I'll hear that. Come on out when you're ready, we'll have breakfast and rewards."

With that his master stepped through the door, pulling it shut behind him. Threetoo stared at it for a moment, then reached up and touched the collar at his throat. His master's touch was still with him. 

Threetoo nodded to himself, looking around the room and considering what to do first. He had his orders. He would please his master. He would earn his breakfast and his rewards. All six of them.

* * *

Tony dropped to sit on the bed in the corner of the room and buried his face in his hands. It was barely nine-thirty in the morning. He'd gotten in about an hour in his workshop before JARVIS told him to come bail Threetoo out, and he already felt like he'd worked two days straight without sleep. 

"JARVIS."

"He is making excellent progress, sir," JARVIS informed him. 

Tony laughed bleakly under his breath. It wasn't even that it was untrue; Threetoo was obviously physically much improved from last night. He was making fantastic strides in communicativeness. He wasn't _afraid_ like Tony would expect of any other slave who had been treated the way he had--but that was because he had been programmed to worship Tony, which meant he now _trusted_ Tony the way zealots trusted their gods.

Tony said _be not afraid_ , and lo, Threetoo wasn't. It made him sick to think about, so he shook it off and focused on things he could fix. Clean up the mess. Get breakfast for Threetoo and himself. And _rewards_. He needed a plan for that. 

He heard the water switch on in the bathroom and exhaled. Excellent progress. Right. 

Nearly twenty minutes went by with a succession of little bathroom noises--including the flush of the toilet, and repeated running of the sink. That gave Tony enough time to finish cleaning, disable the lock on Threetoo's cage, and sit down on the little bed to plot out a succession of prosthetic designs. Something basic at first, lightweight and nonthreatening, but once Threetoo was stronger, and could handle being set up for nerve conduction...

Tony didn't hear the door open, but JARVIS whisked his projections out of sight as soon as it did. Tony had no choice but to be looking attentively in Threetoo's direction as he crawled out of the bathroom.

It wasn't exactly the big reveal after the makeover montage, but it was startling how different Threetoo looked. He'd pulled his hair back semi-successfully, tucking the stray pieces that fell down behind his ears. That made it impossible to miss his face, freshly shaved smooth and pink. He was still hollow-cheeked, but rehydrating had already made him look less gaunt. His eyes were wide and bright, looking eager and hopeful rather than anxious and in pain. 

Even if it was for shitty programmed reasons, it had to be better for him to feel good right now than to feel bad, didn't it? Threetoo could deal with unhappy brain chemicals and deprogramming when he was above starvation weight and not covered in open wounds. 

Tony gave him a big, bright smile. "God, look at you--gorgeous! Come here, Threetoo."

He gave a twitch of the fingers on the side of his body away from Threetoo, and JARVIS murmured in his ear, "Yes, sir. Recording for motion analysis."

To Tony's merely human eye in real time, Threetoo's movement looked smooth and practiced; despite the apparently recent amputation, he was adept at crawling on three limbs. Likewise, Tony wasn't an expert at hair-doing, but he was pretty sure it was usually a two-handed endeavor. If Threetoo had had time to shave, use the toilet, and pull his hair back all with one hand, he had to have had some practice at those maneuvers. Practice he hadn't been getting in Westfahl's cage. 

Tony pictured Threetoo belonging to Pierce, and then he pushed the flood of mental images away. Whatever Threetoo was, whoever made him this way, he was Tony's now. 

Threetoo stopped by Tony's right knee, still in crawling position. He looked up with a hopeful expression.

Tony spread his knees wide enough to make space and dropped a fresh pillow between them. "Knees here, please."

Threetoo looked like Tony had just promised him a blowjob, and Tony had just enough time to worry that Threetoo would consider that a command to give _him_ one before Threetoo shuffled up and knelt where Tony had pointed. He drew himself upright on his knees, shoulders nearly square, with his chin up to show off the collar circling his throat. It was the straightest Tony had ever seen his spine.

Tony could see every one of his ribs. The concavity of his belly from his ribcage to his pubes was only interrupted by bandages. He was almost smiling as he looked at Tony.

Tony didn't know if this was more like the first time JARVIS had talked to him or the first time he'd looked at a car he crashed in the light of day after an accident. He had to focus for a moment on nothing but keeping his own smile in place, marshaling words he could speak without choking on them.

"Look at you." He tucked back the locks of Threetoo's hair that had fallen forward as he crawled. "Look at you, sweetheart."

Threetoo's pink cheeks went a brighter shade, and his smile burst into existence, so sudden and wide--so white and minty fresh--that it hurt to watch. Tony could see him sticking his thumb up, but he kept his hand at his side. Tony elected not to look straight at it. He already knew Threetoo liked Tony being kind to him. Not a new data point.

"So let's do one reward, and then we'll get you fed," Tony said. "I'm going to try a new one, okay? I need you to pay close attention so you can help me calibrate after. Data, right? Remember, I need to know how well each reward works as a reinforcement."

Threetoo nodded, dimming his smile to something merely excited and attentive.

 _I'm pretty sure I've had several worse ideas than this,_ Tony told himself bracingly. He leaned forward and carefully wrapped Threetoo in a hug, pressing Threetoo's face against his shoulder. He focused on his own hand, making sure he wasn't pressing on anything bandaged.

He felt a puff of breath against his chest and had a second of irrational visceral terror that Threetoo had felt the hard surface of the Machine in his chest. But Threetoo sagged against him, leaning into him in either happy surrender or another absence seizure. No, definitely happy. He had lifted his hand and was making little vertical motions like he wanted to raise his thumb higher, higher, but he didn't break Tony's grip to do it.

Tony closed his eyes and pressed his cheek gently against the top of Threetoo's head. For just a second he let himself enjoy the feeling of someone in his arms. He didn't let himself get too close to people; Threetoo wouldn't be the only person he couldn't risk finding the Machine. Pepper knew, of course, and Natasha, and Rhodey, but Tony had to keep them all at safe distances. They all had their own work to do, and he couldn't drag them too far into the role he played. 

Tony had to keep Threetoo close, and he had to reward him. Tony could steal this moment, this touch, and not be a very much worse person than he was already. 

Except that he was keeping Threetoo on his knees, naked and hungry, for his own enjoyment now. They had to have reached the point of diminishing returns on hugging as a reward. Tony pushed back, hands firm on Threetoo's shoulders, and Threetoo--

Threetoo had tears on his beaming face. Tony couldn't even pretend to believe that it was a sign of secret distress; it was obvious that Threetoo was just totally overcome by being hugged for the first time in Christ knew how long. Humans needed touch, didn't they? Gentle, non-raping touch, that was psychologically important. Threetoo needed that, and Tony was the guy who could give it to him. 

"Okay, hey," Tony brushed away a wet stripe down Threetoo's cheek with his thumb. "Okay. So that's the best reward so far, huh?"

Threetoo's mouth opened and Tony could have sworn he laughed, even though he still didn't make a sound. He was nodding frantically as another tear slipped from his eye. 

"Okay. Well, that should hold you for a little while then. Now we're gonna have breakfast, but before that--" Tony picked up a soft bathrobe with one long sleeve and one short one. "Now that you're all clean, how about--"

Threetoo froze, the visible delight going out of him. His hand twitched at his side, and his whole posture changed to something unhappily self-conscious. He'd never seemed particularly aware of being naked, but now Tony could see him suppressing the impulse to cover himself.

He didn't look at the bathrobe. He definitely didn't reach for it, or give any sign that he wanted to put it on.

Tony tossed it away. It hit the wall with a soft thump, and Threetoo looked up at him again, startled out of that abrupt slide into misery. 

"Okay, so that's--" Tony held up his hand between them, thumb down. "Right?"

Threetoo bit his lip, raising his hand, fingers flexing as he tried to convey something more complicated. 

"I want you to be warm enough," Tony said softly. "And I want you to feel okay about what other people see. Sam covered you up when he brought you upstairs last night, do you remember that?"

Threetoo nodded, his gaze dropping to Tony's feet, his shoulders slumping more. He was almost cringing now.

"Hey." Tony gently squeezed the back of his neck, just above the collar. "Hey. Tell me what you're worried about, let's figure this out."

Threetoo looked up at him without raising his head. Slowly, like he was dragging a weight, he raised his hand to point to the door. Not the bathroom, but the door to the hallway. 

"You're worried about... going out there?" Tony hazarded. "Or--oh. You're worried about other people seeing you? Other other people, not me?"

Threetoo gave a stiff little shrug and dropped his gaze, so that wasn't it either. Threetoo trusted Tony to solve his problems. Tony just had to figure out why--

"If I may," JARVIS spoke in Tony's ear again. "32557038 was happy to be admired when you complimented his appearance. Now you are, in effect, ordering him to cover what he thought you were pleased to see and touch. This could be seen as a precursor to being sent away."

Tony blew out a breath. Right. Threetoo had been a sex slave; he believed his value lay in his attractiveness to Tony. Tony had just called him gorgeous and then told him to cover up--mixed signals, as far as Threetoo was concerned. And mixed signals meant danger. It meant he had done something wrong, or was in danger of being sold off to another master who would leave him in a cage and let his entire staff at him for fun.

Tony put both hands on Threetoo's face, brushing his thumbs over those smooth wet cheeks again. Threetoo had cleaned up for him, taken all the pains he could, as surely as any date of his had ever troubled over her makeup and expensive shoes. 

"Hey, look at me." Tony gently turned Threetoo's face up toward his. Threetoo met his gaze with a kind of bleak despair. "Hey, hey. You think I'm telling you to cover up because I don't want to look at you? Because--" God, of course, it was fucking obvious, wasn't it? "You think I don't want to see how you're hurt?"

Threetoo didn't let his gaze fall from Tony's, but his nod was minute. 

"I want you to be warm enough," Tony said slowly, feeling his way. He couldn't lie; he couldn't fall back on the easy reassurances. "You're mine, and I want you to feel good and safe and comfortable while you eat breakfast. I want you to feel good because you're mine, and you're important to me. You're special. I brought home ten other slaves last night--all of 'em with two arms and two legs, and you know what? I haven't touched one of them. Just you. You're all mine, and I'm keeping you just for me."

Threetoo's eyes were opening a little wider, and Tony figured he might as well keep going. He had to tell the truth, didn't he? Fine, fuck it. He would tell the truth.

"I don't keep a lot of slaves, Threetoo. Hardly any. I buy them and move them along--most of them I don't even see while they're mine." Threetoo's eyes widened fearfully, but Tony shook his head, brushing his thumbs over Threetoo's cheeks. 

"Not you, though. You're different. From the first time I held your collar, I knew you were different. I've got a lot of money, more than I know what to do with--beautiful things, perfect things, I can have as many as I want." Tony shook his head. "Boring. You know what I like? I like interesting things. I like projects. I like getting my hands dirty, having something to work on. I like you, Threetoo. I want to get you all tuned up and running perfectly."

It was sickening to see the hope shining in Threetoo's eyes now. 

It was worse to know that he meant every word he said. 

Threetoo turned his head--not struggling, but pushing against Tony's grip all the same. Tony let him go, and Threetoo turned his head to kiss Tony's right hand. His thumb, in fact, right where Tony still had a healing burn from drunk soldering two nights ago. 

Threetoo looked up at him again, and Tony read his expression loud and clear. _Did I get that right?_

Tony's heart was pounding like he'd just hit 200 mph, and he kept his voice soft with a conscious effort. "Yeah. You spotted that, huh? You know I like to work with my hands."

That was the first thing he'd known about Threetoo, wasn't it? He was watching. He was more aware than Tony had thought he would be from his looks. Tony could not forget that.

"So that's where we're at." Tony rubbed that thumb against Threetoo's temple, brushing his hair back again. "I want to look at you, because you're all mine, and I've got so many plans for you. But I want you to be warm, and I want you to feel calm and safe. If you're warm enough without any clothes, if you feel calm and safe when you know that I can see every inch of you and nobody else is gonna have a chance to look, then that works for me. Does that work for you?"

Threetoo's smile was wobbly, but it seemed sincere. He nodded quickly, pressing another kiss to Tony's hand. 

"Good," Tony said. "Because I don't actually know how to give you a reward big enough for letting me know how you were feeling about that and helping me figure out what was going on. That was _so good_ , that was genius. So we should probably move on to breakfast before I owe you even more."

Threetoo's smile widened a little further, showing teeth, and he raised his hand, thumb up.

* * *

His master went and fetched breakfast from a cupboard. Threetoo could smell hot food, which meant the cupboard concealed a hatch to a dumbwaiter. That meant--

That meant his master was bringing a hot breakfast back to where he was obediently kneeling, waiting. The calculations that had briefly filled his mind--dimensions, angles, distances--vanished as his master sat down on the bed again, bracketing Threetoo between his thighs. 

"Sit, sit down," his master said, waving him lower. "This is going to take a while, and there are some more things I need to tell you. Get comfortable."

Threetoo did not let himself wonder what his master needed to tell him. That was not his concern. He had been ordered to sit and to be comfortable. Daringly, he rested his ass on the pillow, turning sideways between his master's knees and curling his legs up. It meant he pressed against the solidity of his master's leg at his back, stealing warmth and touch, but his master gave him an approving look.

"Well, don't stop there." His put his hand on Threetoo's head. 

Threetoo let out a shuddering breath and tipped his head back to rest on his master's thigh. He relaxed his legs, letting his knee rest against his master's calf, and his master looked around for a blanket and dropped it over his feet. 

"Okay?" 

Threetoo smiled and nodded, wiggling his toes under the softness of the blanket. 

"Here, try this." His held something pleasantly food-hot to his lips. Egg, he realized as he opened his mouth. The tidbit was soft but firm--scrambled? Baked? It barely required chewing, and he swallowed quickly and looked up to see his master taking his own bite. His master ate with a fork, not his fingers. 

"Not bad, huh?" His master brought a bottle to Threetoo's lips, allowing him a sip of the familiar sweetened liquid from the night before. "Give that a minute to hit your stomach, then you can have some more."

Threetoo nodded, and his master took another bite of eggs, his left hand moving in small petting motions on Threetoo's head while he chewed. Threetoo's eyes sagged shut, and he focused on everything he could feel, storing up the memory of this moment against future need.

"Okay, so, like I said--" Threetoo opened his eyes wide; his master's hand pressed down gently on his forehead, reminding him to keep his place. 

"Yeah, I need to tell you some things. This all happened pretty fast, last night. I know I told you a little bit about how things work here, but I'm going to lay some things out for you. Your position here is special, and I'm gonna guess I do things differently from anyone who's owned you before, so you don't have much of a baseline for guessing what's going to happen next."

Threetoo licked his lips, trying to get his head around what his master was saying. Threetoo had learned not to look too far ahead. What came next was unknowable--punishment was inevitable, pain was inevitable, but the form it would take, what would be required of him beyond the immediate moment... It was better not to anticipate. 

His master wanted him to be able to anticipate.

"So. You're mine, for me to enjoy." His master touched Threetoo's chin with his thumb and brushed his knuckles down Threetoo's chest. Threetoo tilted into the contact, but his master took his hand away, reaching for something on the tray; he came back with another bite of egg, and Threetoo took it obediently, betraying none of his confusion.

"Mine to look at, mine to touch. Mine to repair and work on," his master continued. "I like fixing things--I like making things. And when you're building something, you have to go in order. You can't move in before you lay the floors, right? So it's the same with you--first we do the work, get you into good shape, the way I want you to be. Until I'm satisfied with your health, until I've got you working right, I'm not going to fuck you. Period. You're not going to see my dick, you're not going to touch it, until I decide you're ready to do that kind of work. You do not have to worry about that, that is not your job yet. And nobody touches you but me; I'm not letting anybody else screw up my work with you."

Threetoo bit his lip. 

His master smiled gently. "With me so far?"

Threetoo nodded, though he was full of questions now. When would he be ready? What other slaves would serve his purpose while his master prepared him, and how would they react to a pampered newcomer? What duties would he have in the meantime?

He had no right to answers, but now that he was thinking of what would happen next, he couldn't stop the questions from forming. They came one after another, pouring out of some trunk they had been locked in, like--

Brooms? Buckets of water? He blinked away the nonsensical images.

"So, breaking it down. Action items. Number one, we've gotta get you accustomed to eating again." His master gave him another sip of liquid, and then turned half away, using both hands to deal with something on the tray before he brought a torn-off piece of brown toast to Threetoo's mouth. The dark sweet smear on top turned out to be grape jelly.

"You're on a refeeding program right now--small meals, a couple hundred calories at a time. It's gonna take ten days, maybe two weeks, to even get up to feeding you enough to maintain weight, and then we'll have to keep moving you up from that level to get you gaining. I'm guessing you need to put about twenty pounds on to be remotely healthy, probably at least sixty to be ideal. But at least twenty before the docs will let you start doing any kind of regular exercise. Obviously you need to be fit enough for cardio before you're cleared for sex, because that's going to get your heart racing."

His master paused to eat some breakfast himself, evidently reminded, while Threetoo considered what his master had said. Twenty pounds. He didn't know how long it took to gain twenty pounds, but if it took ten days for him to even stop losing weight, it would probably be _weeks_ after that. Weeks while his master wouldn't use him properly, but wouldn't let anyone else either. Would not sell or give him away, either, by the same token. Weeks where it wasn't Threetoo's job to do anything he understood as service.

Threetoo would simply... wait. And eat when he was fed.

"Second, kind of a sidebar, obviously we need to get all your wounds healed. The burns and tears are pretty superficial--oh, hey, did you shit?"

Threetoo shook his head. 

"I didn't think you would yet, but that's obviously a concern. Have to keep your ass very clean while it heals, but also it'll be a good sign when you start shitting, that means your body's getting enough food to move things along. So we'll watch for that. And we need to clear the infection here," his master touched the edge of the bandages fastened around his stump. "And make sure that heals clean, because, sidebar to the sidebar, I want to get you fixed up with a prosthetic--"

Time stuttered badly, much more than the little stops and starts Threetoo normally barely noticed. When it steadied he felt pain starting at the back of his skull. 

"Shh, shh, hey, not yet, I know it hurts--" Threetoo was startled to find that he was flapping his hand. His master's hand was warm around his wrist, holding firmly but not making him stop. "Not yet, we'll wait until you're ready. I like building things, that's all. It's okay. We'll get to that."

Threetoo let his hand fall still as the pain he'd thought he escaped earlier blossomed through his head. He could ignore it; his master had said _it's okay_. It had to be okay. 

His stomach twisted uneasily when his master gave him another bite of egg, but he ignored it. He ignored the throbbing pain, chewing and swallowing as his master wished. He must not vomit. That would be a setback in his master's plan. His duty was to eat when he was fed.

"Okay," his master was murmuring, running his left hand over and over Threetoo's head. His whole skull felt like it was about to crack in half to release the pressure-pain building inside, but he still pressed into his master's touch, hungry for more.

"Third thing," his master said. "I don't know exactly how it feels to you, but sometimes you just _stop_ for a few seconds, like you're not there, and then you start again."

Threetoo froze, opening his eyes wide, feeling a sudden surge of terror.

 _Useless_ , he thought, from nowhere, in a voice that was not his master's, a voice he didn't know. _Fuckin' fried._

"Shh, shh, hey, I told you, perfect stuff is boring," his master said, or that was what Threetoo pieced together as time stuttered and the pain surged. "You're a challenge. If you were just--that's just a matter of time--problem solving--we've got some real work to do, here. We think--hey, Threetoo--we have to test--"

_Useless. Fuckin' fried. I don't care how we prep that, it can't hold a--_

"Shh, hey, hey, look at me."

Threetoo found that tears were leaking from his eyes when he tried to blink them away. His master's hands closed gently around his face--Threetoo froze, expecting a vice-grip, mouth open for--for--but the pain was already there. The sick electric throb pounded in his skull, never quite enough to wash him clean. 

"Okay," his master's hands did not clamp down, but stroked gently. "Okay. So it's not going to be easy. But I'm not giving up, Threetoo. You're mine, and I'm not giving you up."

 _Useless_. His master would find out he couldn't be repaired, his master would--would-- _start over_ \--

"Here, okay, you need to lie down--" Threetoo was aware of being lifted bodily. He should be heavier, solid, immovable--but his master was strong. His master knew how to work. He laid Threetoo down on--on--it was so soft, too soft, he couldn't, mustn't--but he couldn't push back against his master's hands, couldn't move from where his master put him--

"Shh, listen, this is where I want you, so you're just going to have to relax and try to rest." His master's hands were on him, rubbing at the back of his neck, the base of his skull, the coiled-tight hurt in his shoulders.

His mind went blank, and his awareness shrank. He knew only his master's hands, and pain, and something soft under him, and blankets covering him where his master was not presently touching.


	2. Chapter 2

Threetoo's frozen, silent panic--which made it fucking difficult to distinguish whether he was having a seizure or just freaking out--melted gradually under Tony's hands. After twenty minutes he was completely limp, panting softly while Tony continued petting him, mouth and eyes both half open. 

Tony went down to one hand petting and forced himself to eat from the breakfast tray, which he'd moved to the floor so he could lay Threetoo on the bed. Tony had learned altogether too much in the last sixteen hours about what malnutrition did to the brain to be careless about his own meals.

"See," Tony said softly, in between bites of tepid eggs and crumbly whole-wheat toast. "See how good you are for me?"

Threetoo didn't respond, but Tony didn't particularly expect him to. He was obviously, if not asleep, then in some kind of fugue. At least this one seemed to be comparatively pleasant. 

"Okay, J," Tony said under his breath. "So: avoiding the landmines we've just discovered, bullet points. What do I need to tell him?"

DO NOT MENTION PROSTHETIC and DO NOT DRAW ATTENTION TO SEIZURES were already floating in holographic red above Threetoo. Now those lines moved to one side, and JARVIS made new ones appear in green. 

Tony made a few notes for himself, silently practicing his wording and adjusting the order of the points. As he considered the last one he asked, "How are the renovations going upstairs?"

JARVIS replied with video, streaming from two angles and showing the work being done in the bedslave's room that adjoined to the master bedroom in the penthouse. It was a standard feature Tony hadn't had the nerve to strike from the plans of the penthouse; it might have interfered with the rumors he'd carefully cultivated about him having a bedslave for every night of the week. He'd refused to use the space for anything but had actual nightmares when he considered walling it off, so it had stayed empty and unfinished until now. 

Tony recognized all of the workers--he'd acquired all of them within the last year, and they'd all achieved high trust ratings and been trained for basic peer counseling. None of them would say a word about the modifications Tony was making to the space that would house his new slave.

When he was satisfied with their progress, Tony dismissed the video windows and focused on Threetoo again. His eyes had closed completely; he seemed to be dozing. Tony looked over what was left of the breakfast tray, and JARVIS popped up some possible combinations to complete Threetoo's target 250 calories in the next half hour. He nodded and got up, sitting on the edge of the bed so he was looking down at Threetoo.

"Threetoo," Tony said softly, tucking one thumb under his collar and brushing his hair back with the other hand. "Sweetheart, can you wake up for me?"

Threetoo blinked rapidly and focused on Tony, tensing slightly as he did.

"You're right where I put you," Tony said firmly. "You're right where I want you to be. You needed to take a little break, so I put you in bed to rest for a while. How are you feeling now? Show me with your thumb."

Threetoo bit his lip but curled his hand into a fist where Tony could see. His thumb was on top, but nearly flat.

"Lower than tofu, huh," Tony said. "Good, okay, that seems like an honest answer. Tack on another reward for clean data."

Threetoo smiled a little and his thumb twitched up slightly. 

"Progress, even better." Tony smiled back. It really was progress; Threetoo was looking more present behind his eyes, his color improving. "Here, I interrupted breakfast with information overload, that's a bad habit of mine. I have ruined so many meals by talking too much, you would not believe. The hot stuff got cold, but there's still plenty for you to eat. Here, this first."

He held a slice of apple to Threetoo's lips, and Threetoo took it without his gaze wavering from Tony. 

"That's good," Tony murmured, and he kept up a steady stream of petting and encouragement along with the slow but steady application of another two hundred calories of balanced breakfast: apple slices and soy yogurt and some pieces of blueberry muffin that had been made with a lot of whole wheat and banana. The muffin had actual sugar crystals on top and Threetoo shivered with pleasure as he chewed, his thumb going vertical. 

"Okay," Tony said, when they'd reached target consumption and Threetoo was looking bright-eyed and interested again. "Why don't we try this again. Go ahead and get down for me."

Threetoo slid down quickly, kneeling in front of Tony with his right hand tucked behind him. His back was straight, his chin up, and his eyes focused on Tony. 

"Good," Tony said. "Now, once more with fewer bad feelings. There are a few things I want you to know about what happens next."

Threetoo's eyes stayed steady on him, unflinching at the reminder. Tony noted uneasily that it was like he didn't remember what had happened an hour ago at all. 

Tony pushed on. "So, first thing, you are going to stay in this room, right here, until I decide that it's time for you to move upstairs to the penthouse with me. I'm fixing up the bedslave's room adjoining to mine, so it should be ready by the time you are, and then I can keep you close by all the time."

Threetoo's lips parted, and his whole arm twitched; Tony would bet he was getting an enthusiastic thumbs up for that. He smiled gently and brushed back Threetoo's hair with one hand. Never both hands on his face at the same time, that was another point to remember.

"Next thing, we're going to do some tests today. All my new slaves do this, to see what skills they have. There's no punishment for not knowing how to do any of the things we try, and none of the tests will hurt. I just need to know what kinds of things you're good at and where I might want to give you extra training."

Threetoo's gaze dropped pointedly to Tony's crotch before darting back up to his face.

Tony smiled, despite the earnestly hopeful, not-at-all-teasing look on Threetoo's face. "We'll check out those skills later--much later, after you get fully medically cleared. For right now, we'll get your bandages changed, maybe give you some more medicine. There might be some blood draws, or another IV. Dr. Helen is going to come and have a look at you at some point. Once she says you're in stable condition--not fully cleared, you're at least a few weeks away from that--then we can move you up to the penthouse. You'll stay up there when I have to work--just you, no one else lives in the penthouse. I don't have any servants up there, no other slaves. You'll have the run of the place, but I think I can trust you not to throw any wild parties or get drunk and trash it."

Threetoo smiled tentatively back at him, his cheeks coloring as he nodded.

"Yeah," Tony said softly, curling a hand around the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know I can trust you, Threetoo."

Even as he said it he thought about having nowhere left to be securely alone--nowhere he dared to show his skin, nowhere to cut loose--

But Threetoo was smiling up at him, shoulders straight, and Tony could do it. It would only be for a while--just until Threetoo recovered enough to crack his programming and free him, or until it became obvious that he wouldn't and Tony sent him away somewhere safe for the long term. Six months, tops. Tony could live undercover in his own home for six months, if it kept Threetoo and the rest of his operation safe. Poor Tony Stark, troubled with the presence of a doting sex slave for entire _months_.

"Anyway, I owe you some rewards, right? What are we at?"

Threetoo bit his lip, considering the question. Tony hadn't meant it to be a test, but he realized that it was--it was two tests, really, because according to his own calculation they were at six, which Threetoo didn't have enough fingers to show easily. So he had to correctly remember the number, and then decide how to convey it.

Threetoo raised his hand, one finger extended, and touched it to his chest. With his eyes on Tony, his face set in a hopeful questioning expression, he traced a six on his own skin. 

"Six," Tony echoed. He'd remembered the number; he'd found a way to write it so that it would be correctly oriented to Tony's gaze, not his own. "Plus one for knowing and one for telling me correctly. So we're at eight, and now you get to choose what kind you want next."

Threetoo grinned, eyes sparkling with pride. 

Tony grinned back and tapped one finger against Threetoo's left cheek. "Food reward." He tapped Threetoo's nose. "Touch reward." He tapped Threetoo's right cheek. "Object reward. What'll it be?"

Threetoo had his finger on his nose almost before Tony finished speaking, and Tony snorted, unsurprised. "Not a whole big hug like before, that one was special. That still what you want?"

Threetoo nodded vigorously, keeping his fingertip firmly pressed to his nose. 

"Okay," Tony said softly. "All right, you keep your thumb where I can see it--I need to know if this stops being a good reward, okay?"

Threetoo nodded, bringing his hand down to chest-level.

"Okay," Tony repeated. "Chin up, first, let me check on this." 

He slid his thumb under the collar, pushing it up to check the skin beneath. There was no sign of irritation, but he worked his hand slowly around to the back of Threetoo's neck, shifting the testing touch into a more deliberate rubbing motion. Threetoo let his head tip forward, his hair falling down around his face. His thumb was already pointing straight up. 

Keeping his right hand on the back of Threetoo's neck, Tony brought the left up to Threetoo's temple. Not both sides of his face at once, but he'd learned enough about pressure points when JARVIS made him address his own tension headaches to know what to try. He rubbed his thumb over the hard little ridge of muscle at Threetoo's temple, and Threetoo exhaled and leaned into it, his shoulders sagging. What Tony could see of his face through his hair had gone slack with pleasure, or at least relief-of-pain; no surprise if he'd had a panic hangover that included one hell of a headache. 

"Okay," Tony said softly. "I'm going to use my other hand just like this too, on the other side of your head, unless you tell me that's not a good reward."

Threetoo's eyes fluttered open and his thumb jerked up higher. Tony smiled and brought his hand around slowly, angled so he wasn't touching with anything but his thumb. Threetoo's eyes closed again, his head tipping forward. His hair was silky against the backs of Tony's hands, his breathing slow and shallow, his posture at ease.

Tony reminded himself that he had to stop soon. This was just supposed to be one reward. He was going to stop. Any minute now.

* * *

Threetoo drifted away again under the touch of his master's hands, the last of the punishment-pain finally fading from his skull. 

"Okay," his master said after a while. "That takes you down to seven rewards. You want another one now, or you want to save them for later?"

Threetoo raised his gaze to his master, blinking as he tried to think of how to answer. His master smiled fondly and tucked his hair back for him. 

"Now?" His master said, again giving him that raised-eyebrows expectant look. "Do you want another reward right now? Or do you want to save them for later? You'll still get all of them, it's just a matter of when."

Threetoo still hesitated, not knowing how to choose.

His master raised both of his hands palm up between them. "Now?" He waggled his right hand. "Or later?" He moved his left.

Threetoo's own hand was still locked in the thumbs-up position. He forced his fingers to uncurl, but he thought--he might just dare--he didn't think his master would mind if Threetoo tried to show a little gratitude along with his choice. His master might even be pleased.

Threetoo leaned forward cautiously and kissed the palm of his master's left hand. 

His master's breath went out in a little startled sound, and he used that hand to tuck Threetoo's hair back again. 

"Okay," his master said. "Later, then. You've got seven on account. You can earn another one right now, though--" 

His master looked around and then leaned over to the mostly-emptied breakfast tray and plucked up a small, perfect orange, so bright Threetoo could almost taste it already. He balanced it on top of his knee, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out something the size of a coin, but thinner, shining like gold.

It was a tag. There was a hole punched in the disc, and it was engraved with a familiar string of numbers. _32557038_.

His master set it on the opposite knee from the orange.

"Chin up again," his master said, and Threetoo tilted his head back. This time his master's touch focused on the midline of his throat, pressing against his windpipe as though searching for something. His fingers touched Threetoo's chin next.

"Open your mouth," he directed. "Tongue out. Say _ah_."

Threetoo tried to obey even before he understood the last instruction. The almost-sound caught in his throat and he choked, nearly gagging. Even the little wet noise of choking made him freeze--and freeze harder because he had doubly disobeyed. His master had told him to speak, to _say ah_ , and he hadn't--but he couldn't--

"Okay, nope, nope," his master covered his mouth with one hand, the other hand at the back of his neck again, squeezing until Threetoo dragged in a breath through his nose, his gaze fixing on his master's eyes. He looked--not angry, but worried. 

"Okay," his master said. "I'm rescinding that last order. I told you, didn't I? Rewards are always better for teaching, I told you about that. So I'm just gonna tell you that this," his master indicated the two prizes on his knees. "This is all yours, as soon as you can make a sound for me. If that's right now, it's right now. If it's later, it's later. If it's tomorrow, or the next day, or a month from now, that's what it is. All you have to do is make a sound and you get the rewards, whenever you're ready."

Threetoo bit his lip, glancing down at the rewards. A special tag for his collar, a perfect orange--he wanted them, but even more he wanted to earn them. He wanted his master to be proud of him; he wanted to obey properly.

He swallowed, considering. His master had said _make a sound_. He couldn't do what his master wanted, but he might be able to do what his master asked. He thought that might please his master anyway. His master liked it when he asked questions, when he did things his master hadn't expected he would.

Threetoo licked his lips and took a deep breath. His master's gaze dropped to his mouth, expecting him to speak, or at least to try again.

Threetoo raised his hand to just under his chin and snapped his fingers, making a sharp sound in the quiet room.

His master laughed. It began as a loud, startled bark of sound, but then it just kept rolling out of him. He curled forward, steadying himself with a hand on Threetoo's shoulder, laughing and laughing. Twice he tried to speak and the words were just garbled noises. His eyes got shiny-wet, and he finally gasped a deep breath, dashing one hand across his eyes as he got his breathing under control. 

"Threetoo." His master straightened up to look at him with a dazzling smile. Threetoo's face already ached from smiling back at him. "You're fucking brilliant, you know that? You get both of these right now for doing exactly what I asked you to do. And the first time you make a noise _with your voice_ , you get the biggest goddamn hug in the world."

* * *

Tony had to feed Threetoo the clementine section by section; he only looked blankly at it when Tony said, "Go ahead, it's yours." 

After Threetoo had licked the juice from his fingers and Tony had dumped the peel--a perfect spiral--back on the breakfast tray, he hung the tag he'd made that morning on Threetoo's collar. Threetoo stroked it with one finger, shook his head to try to make it jingle. He looked up at Tony with wide, delighted eyes, and Tony told himself he was embracing the whole collar thing because he was playing a role, building the image of the kind of master Threetoo could accept. 

It wasn't about the way he felt when Threetoo smiled at him. It definitely wasn't about wanting to make the collar represent him to Threetoo instead of Westfahl or--whoever had come before. And it couldn't possibly be some obscure and fundamentally insane effort to compensate for not being able to give Threetoo a new arm just yet, because apparently that idea freaked him right out. 

"Okay." Tony had to pivot away from the damn collar. "Time to change your bandages, and after that we'll do testing."

Threetoo was quiet and patient through the whole process of changing his dressings, moving where Tony needed him to so JARVIS could get a good look at each wound, including his ass. JARVIS relayed the information that all the wounds seemed to be progressing normally, and the infection in his arm was responding well. Tony just nodded and slathered on the antibiotic ointment and fresh dressings, consoling himself by dispensing blueberries and almonds to Threetoo after each fresh bandage was taped down.

Threetoo actually dozed off while Tony was working on his feet, and Tony took the opportunity to go hide in the bathroom for a few minutes once he was done. He was vaguely surprised, when he got there, to realize that he actually needed to take a piss; his own body's requirements seemed distantly secondary when he was elbow-deep in Threetoo's needs. He took care of that, washed his hands and then washed them again, then went and put the red biohazard bag in the elevator hatch and washed his hands again. 

Threetoo finally stirred a little when Tony sat down beside him, blinking up at him all calm and content after his cat nap.

"Ready for testing?" 

Threetoo nodded agreeably, getting up onto his knees again without being told. That seemed like a sign of confidence--he really didn't seem worried at all, at this point. Tony decided to skip the hearing and vision tests and go straight for the cognitive batteries--and the most important test, right off the bat. 

"So I don't have any stuff to test you with here," Tony said, spreading his hands. "But I asked someone to send one of my robots from my lab to bring me the things I need. You know what a robot is, Threetoo?"

Threetoo looked interested. He nodded cautiously. 

"These ones don't look like people, they're--" Right on cue, there was a tap at the door. Tony set his hand on the back of Threetoo's neck and said, "Yeah, come in."

The door opened and U rolled through, a couple of soft canvas bags resting on the forward edge of his platform. U waved a greeting with his main arm, and Tony looked at Threetoo to see how he was handling this.

Threetoo had his head tilted slightly, studying U with obvious interest. He waved his hand in a motion matching U's greeting.

Tony felt inordinately, irrationally proud, and even more relieved. He didn't know what he would have done if Threetoo was frightened of the bot, and it would have been even worse if he dismissed U as an object. Tony had never liked people who couldn't see bots as people, any more than--well, any more than people who couldn't see _slaves_ as people.

"Come on, U, over here," Tony said, beckoning the bot closer. It rolled right up, and Threetoo continued watching in fascination. "U, this is Threetoo. Threetoo, this bot is called U. The letter U."

Threetoo waved his hand again and then raised two fingers, folding down ring and pinky and pressing his thumb against them.

 _JARVIS_ , Tony mouthed, staring.

"Yes, sir," JARVIS murmured in his ear. "That is the American Sign Language letter U." 

"Threetoo," Tony said, and Threetoo hurriedly dropped his hand, whipping his head around to focus on Tony. "No, no, that was good, that was perfect--I told you his name and you called him by his name, right?"

Threetoo nodded hesitantly.

"Good. Reward. You're back up to eight." Tony mentally reordered the tests Dr. Cho and JARVIS wanted him to run. "Can you do your name the same way? Threetoo?"

Threetoo cautiously raised his hand again--two fingers and a thumb up for _three_ , and then he folded his thumb in to make _two_. Tony swallowed, making his smile look natural and normal, and not like the sight of Threetoo flashing a peace sign was giving him the fucking creeps.

"Good," Tony said. "That makes nine."

Threetoo smiled and arranged his hand into something that looked like an _okay_ sign with his palm straight toward Tony. 

"Nine, sir," JARVIS translated. 

"Out of curiosity," Tony said, "What's six look like?" 

Threetoo held up three fingers, pinky and thumb folded together.

"When I asked you about rewards before--you wrote it out instead because you knew I wouldn't understand that you meant six instead of three?"

Threetoo swallowed and nodded again, his fingers curling down to say nothing.

"That's so smart," Tony said, cupping one hand to his cheek. "Threetoo, that was so good. Can you do some more letters? Can you spell my name?"

Threetoo bit his lip and then slowly started making a series of signs that meant nothing to Tony. In his ear, JARVIS translated. "M - A - S - T - E - R."

Tony gritted his teeth and kept smiling. "That's what you call me, yeah. Do you know my actual name? Can you spell that?"

Threetoo frowned in concentration, his gaze shifting away as he struggled to remember what the hell Tony's name was. 

Tony winced, trying to remember himself. Had he ever actually introduced himself? Had Westfahl even said his name when he handed over Threetoo's collar? Christ. _Good work, genius, way to treat a slave like a fucking person._

"It's okay," Tony said. "Hey. Threetoo, it's okay. It's fine if you can't remember. My name is Tony Stark."

Threetoo nodded jerkily and signed again--the same six signs repeated, meaning _Master_ and then--he recognized the S and T together again, and barely needed JARVIS to translate, "Stark."

"Good," Tony said. He did know better than to push for _Tony_. He did know that Threetoo was bound to call him something like _master_. Of course that would be his first word; it was inevitable. This was just where they were starting from. Threetoo was going to get better from here, as long as Tony didn't fuck up and make everything worse. "Good. That's ten, Threetoo."

* * *

Threetoo seemed just as cautiously interested in the tablet Tony eventually pulled out of one of U's bags as he was in U himself. He was perfectly willing to touch things on the screen according to Tony's instructions, and quickly demonstrated that he was literate and numerate in English as well as ASL.

He deliberated over his choices for as long as he was allowed; the first time Tony pressed him into going faster through a test, he got three wrong answers in a row and then seemed to freeze up completely, flinching when the tablet beeped a time warning but refusing to select an answer.

"Shh, hey, it's okay," Tony murmured, tugging the tablet away from Threetoo--incidentally granting himself an unobstructed view of Threetoo's dick, which was briefly startling all over again after a ten minute absence. Tony closed out that test program before tossing the tablet aside. "Shh, come here."

He turned Threetoo to sit between his knees again, head on Tony's thigh. 

"You're doing fine." Tony ran his fingers through Threetoo's hair, damp at the temples with sweat. "You haven't had enough sleep or food lately, and people always make mistakes under those conditions. It's totally normal. I know you'll do better at these tests later; we just need to gauge where you're at now so we can see if there's something special you need in order to improve. Plus we need a baseline to measure how _much_ you improve. I know you're doing your best for me, and that's all I want you to do."

Threetoo sucked in a shuddering breath and nodded against Tony's thigh, closing his eyes. Tony kept petting him for a while, and then declared it time for a snack, and sent U to get a tray.

* * *

Threetoo was aware that the tests were--should have been--easy. Worse, he kept finding in himself a sense that he should be someone for whom tests, even difficult tests, were always easy. But that was wrong; he knew that was wrong. He was-- _useless_ \-- _fucking fried_ \--unworthy, broken, disgusting. He was lucky to have such a kind master; he had always been lucky to have any master at all to make use of him despite his ugliness, his obvious defects. 

And still, each time he made a mistake, it was somehow surprising all over again. It was as if between the blows of a beating the implement changed without warning from whip to flogger to cane. He could never settle into the rhythm of it. 

His master gave him some particularly easy tests, manipulating blocks and toys into different shapes according to his master's instructions. His master didn't press him to do it quickly, so the only difficulty was in having just one hand for the task. Still, he was mostly able to show his master how neat and precise he could be. He didn't make any serious mistakes, only knocking blocks out of alignment twice when time stuttered on him at just the wrong second. 

"Beautiful," his master said, as Threetoo finished arranging fourteen irregularly shaped pieces to make a perfect pyramid. "That's, what, eighteen?"

Threetoo nodded, raising his hand to show the number. It required a quickly repeated twist of the wrist along with the arrangement of his fingers. 

"Good." His master pushed the tablet toward him again, a keyboard showing on its surface. "Now I'm going to ask you some questions; you take as much time as you need to answer. And while you do that, I'm going to try on this hat that U brought us for your next test."

As he spoke, his master pulled on a bright red hood. It seemed heavy, and his master shifted it around on his head for a moment, looking down at another tablet as he did. He pressed on different parts of the hood until he seemed satisfied with its position, and then he looked at Threetoo with a smile. "What do you think, good look?"

Threetoo bit his lip, studying his master. Red suited his warm coloring, making his brown eyes sparkle, but Threetoo thought it did not compensate for the lost sight of his dark hair, which stood on end in places from the way his master ran his hands through it when he was thinking.

Threetoo raised his hand with his thumb tucked between his middle and ring fingers, exactly level.

His master laughed again. "Honest feedback! Nineteen--no, you know what, you're getting that one right now. Food reward, does your stomach feel okay? You good for a food reward right now?"

Threetoo didn't have to think before putting his thumb straight up. He felt pleasantly not-hungry, and not so distractingly full as at the end of his last snack. His stomach didn't hurt the way it did sometimes when he was made to eat a lot at once, or when the food was bad. His master only gave him good things, and only enough for a little while.

"Okay, here, sip of water first," his master held the bottle to his lips and Threetoo obediently sipped the plain, tepid water. Then his master pulled something out of the bag, unwrapping a small item from a cellophane packet. 

Threetoo's mouth flooded with saliva and he opened wide, tongue nearly protruding. His master smiled and set the candy in his mouth. "Just suck on it, don't crunch. I don't want you breaking your teeth."

Threetoo nodded. The admonition felt familiar and right, part and parcel of the privilege of a piece of candy. He closed his eyes as the taste of sugar and artificial orange flavor filled his mouth. 

"So you've got a sweet tooth: noted." His master sounded amused and pleased. 

Threetoo opened his eyes again, jerking his thumb up in agreement.

"All right. Now I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to spell out the answers on the tablet." 

Threetoo felt a moment's hope that this would be like the tests they'd already done--spelling words his master read out to him, or remembering things, or calculating. He hadn't gotten all of those right, but there was a certain satisfaction in manipulating the numbers, a clean and simple puzzle.

"Who is the president?" 

Threetoo's hand jerked toward the keyboard-- _easy_ \--and then he froze. Too many names occurred to him, and none with the certainty of rightness. He stared down at his hand and the keyboard, but there was no clue there. No help. 

He didn't know if time stuttered while he held still there, not daring to look up at his master. After a while his master asked, "Who was the _first_ president?"

 _Washington_ , Threetoo typed immediately.

"Good, that's nineteen," His master said. "Name three other presidents for me."

 _Roosevelt_ , Threetoo typed without thinking. _Kennedy_ , which sent a strange shivering sensation through him, making him lose track of all the other names that had lined up in his mind.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second, and then he typed _the other Roosevelt_.

His master snorted. "Good, I'll take it. Twenty. What's twenty look like?"

Threetoo showed him the sign and then lowered his hand to the keyboard again.

His master nodded. "What state are we in?"

Threetoo let out a breath of relief and typed confidently. _New York_.

"What state were you born in?"

Threetoo's lips parted and his hand jerked; without transition he was suddenly aware of his master's hand on his head, pressing him to rest his forehead on his master's knee. He breathed in and out, nearly hard enough to be audible, and his master's fingers rubbed firmly against his scalp.

"Name three other states," his master directed after a while. 

Threetoo curled around to grab the tablet without taking his head off his master's knee. _California_ was easy, and _Texas_ , and--he made a face-- _New Jersey_.

"Also acceptable answers: solid, liquid, gas," his master informed him. "But yes, very good. Twenty-one. What's another name for a card game called twenty-one?"

 _Blackjack_ , Threetoo typed out. 

"Name three more card games for me?"

_Poker. Rummy. Patience._

"Patience--ah, yeah, patience. Good. Twenty-two. Okay, your turn to wear this fetching hat while I ask you some more questions."

His master guided him to pick his head up, and Threetoo looked up and watched as his master lifted the hood from his own head and settled it over Threetoo's. Threetoo could feel the warmth of his master's body on the inside, could smell a pleasant scent, slightly tinged with sweat, that must be from his master's hair.

The hood was a double layer of fabric with rigid pieces between the layers. As he had when he was wearing it himself, his master touched the rigid pieces, moving them slightly, pressing them firmly but not painfully against Threetoo's head until he was satisfied with their positions.

"Okay," his master sat back. "What was the weather like the last time you were outside?"

 _Cold_ , Threetoo typed without thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony settled Threetoo down for another nap when JARVIS told him they had enough data. Threetoo was visibly exhausted by then, sagging shamelessly against Tony's knee. He wasn't far enough gone for Tony to get him onto the bed, but he lay down willingly next to it with his head on a pillow and a blanket over him. Tony would call it a win.

It took about thirty seconds for Threetoo to fall asleep. Tony watched his brain waves settle into a pattern JARVIS helpfully labeled as NREM 1, his heart rate ebbing down to a slow and steady pace.

Alone for a moment, Tony put his hand to his chest, rubbing at the entirely phantom pain that followed from watching the arrhythmias that accompanied every absence seizure. That was Threetoo's heart, not his. The microfilaments in his chest cavity were safely dormant. Harmless. He had made sure of that. The Machine made sure of that.

"Sir," JARVIS said after Tony had watched Threetoo sleep for a few minutes. "Doctors Cho and Fox are awaiting you in Dr. Cho's office."

"Yeah," Tony said quietly. He gently tugged the EEG cap off Threetoo's head. They didn't need any more data, and he would get overheated and sweaty with that thing on while he was sleeping. Tony brushed a hand through his hair, already damp at the temples. "Sleep tight, sweetheart. U, JARVIS, you're babysitting."

The bot rolled closer, positioning himself protectively beside Threetoo. That also put U close enough for Tony to steady himself on the bot's main arm, hauling himself to his feet. He stepped out into the corridor and stood there for a while, gathering himself. He could have sacked out for a nap right along with Threetoo; he'd actually gotten less sleep, at this point. Tony was wiped out and it was barely the middle of the day. 

He shook himself. "J, there's coffee somewhere between here and there?"

"Also awaiting you in Dr. Cho's office, sir," JARVIS assured him. 

Tony set out in long strides, squaring his shoulders.

Dr. Cho and Dr. Emily Fox were sitting at the little conference table, two laptops and a surprising amount of paper spread out between them. Tony aimed himself at the seat where the Starbucks venti cup and sandwich were awaiting him--presumably a hint from JARVIS that he, like Threetoo, needed to be fed again. The good doctors accepted his mute wave as greeting, and Tony took a scalding gulp of sweet, strong coffee before he tried to speak. 

"Before we get to 32557038," Tony said. "Anything I should know about any of the others?"

Dr. Fox shook her head. 

Dr. Cho said, "Actually, I have a request to convey from Grant. Steven Grant Rogers, as it turns out; he also offered to give me his rank and serial number."

"We have that already, don't we?" Tony asked. He was pretty sure they had Grant's--Steven's-- _Rogers'_ \--number on record. It would have been on the chip they pulled, and Dr. Cho must have scanned it before sending it back. 

Tony touched his pocket, remembering, but the weird pins from Rogers' arm were up in the penthouse, dumped into the box that held everything he cleared from his pockets at the end of the day. He'd have to be careful about that box, once Threetoo moved in. He could have JARVIS to remind him to empty his pockets before he left the lab, that would eliminate most of the dangerous stuff. Of course, that was the least of what he couldn't do at home with him anymore; he curled his fingers firmly around his coffee to keep from touching his chest.

Tony snapped back into focus on the present; Dr. Cho was holding something out in his direction, something that looked like a curved scoop made out of tin foil.

"Right, you don't like to be handed things," she said, and set it down, sliding it across the table. 

Tony picked it up gingerly, studying it from every angle. It was indeed made out of a few layers of tinfoil, molded into a nicely symmetrical curve. Just about the size of a big man's hand, and curved about like a hand could be curved. "What exactly is Rogers asking me for?"

"He's not asking you for anything," Dr. Cho said. "He's asked his doctor for a private, personal assistive device--that shape, but metal or plastic. A smooth, sterilizable surface. Dull, rounded edges are preferable, and a ring attached somewhere for carrying would also be useful. I can't see how it would be a weapon, but it seemed simplest to ask you to clear it and fabricate it at the same time."

Tony turned it, examining it again. Dr. Cho obviously wasn't going to elaborate on _private, personal assistive device_ , which had to mean it was something truly embarrassing. Genitals, eliminatory functions--

Tony had a sudden, stark memory of Threetoo obediently tilting his ass in the air, knees spread wide, so that Tony and JARVIS could examine his torn-up asshole. 

He closed his eyes, trying to blank that remembered vision. He wasn't going to ask what Rogers needed this for. He wasn't going to speculate. He didn't want to know. He knew more than enough things already.

"Yeah, okay, I'll go down to the lab and crank it out as soon as we're done here." He could have had it ready and waiting by then, but unlike the slaves' recovery rooms Dr. Cho's office wasn't wired to let JARVIS see much. Confidentiality and so on.

"Then we should get on with the purpose of our meeting," Dr. Cho said. "From what I'm seeing, and judging from last night's bloodwork, 32557038 is in a serious but stable condition. He's going to need continued nursing care and monitoring, but you can provide both of those as easily in the penthouse as here."

Tony nodded. "The seizures? Can you medicate him for that?"

Dr. Cho tilted her head. "In consultation with an actual neurologist--eventually, yes, if the condition turns out to be chronic. Not right now, not when we have no baseline and he's still recovering from starvation. The most common side effect of the primary anti-seizure medications are loss of appetite and nausea, and it's much more important to get him up to a healthy weight than to stop the seizures. They're not life-threatening, and while I'm willing to forego proper consent, _once_ , for a non-invasive diagnostic procedure, I'm not going to medicate 32557038 without discussing his condition and treatment options with _him_."

"Well, that's a non-starter," Tony said, turning his gaze to Dr. Fox.

She nodded. "Discussing his seizures was an obvious panic trigger; in general he's clearly showing high levels of anxiety. His cortisol levels were off the charts last night, and that doesn't just go away. His behavior toward you is demonstrating an unusually high level of institutionalization."

"So he's..." Tony struggled for words to use without giving too much away about what he suspected. Now was not the time to blurt out, _Did you notice how good he is at math? Did you notice the kind of math he's really good at?_

Tony ate a little more of the sandwich and focused on playing this straight. As far as anyone knew, Threetoo was a sex slave, and he'd gotten attached to Tony, and that was all this was. "This is--not normal, you said he's unusual, but it's the kind of thing you've seen before?"

"In a sense," Dr. Fox said. "I don't know how much attention you pay to the way we normally work with the newly freed, but generally we try to give them someone to bond with, someone who can guide them through the transition out of slavery. It's usually a freed person who served in a similar capacity, though some of them latch on to other staff. We don't force these relationships, but people coming out of slavery, especially the kinds of situations you're usually removing slaves from--they're looking for touchstones in their new lives, role models, and if they're capable of it, people to trust. It seems 32557038 has chosen to trust you."

"He didn't choose anything," Tony said, and before Dr. Fox could point out to him all the things that looked like Threetoo choosing, Tony pressed through to the actual point. "Even if he did, are you going to let him? I _own him_. That is the opposite of--of--"

 _Of a buddy who's been where he is_. Tony's throat closed on the words. He couldn't go anywhere near _that_ , either. It wasn't safe for anyone in this room to have any inkling of what he and Threetoo had in common.

"You don't, actually." Tony focused on Dr. Fox again when she spoke, and she tilted her head, smiling slightly as she went on. "Own him, I mean. His intended emancipation aside, you're leasing him."

Tony closed his eyes. "I'm his master. Westfahl told him that--handed me his collar and told him, _this man is your master, you obey him now_ , so. He's not choosing me."

"He's choosing to trust you," Dr. Fox said, and Tony did not dare explain exactly how programmed Threetoo was, or what he suspected all that programming might be for. 

"Tony, I've been watching you with him, and he's scared a lot, but I really do not think that he's scared of you. He may be compelled to obey you, but the way he's reacting toward you is already showing that he has enormous confidence in your regard for him, your kindness toward him. And that _is_ a choice he's making--or a judgment, if you like, about who you are and how you'll treat him." 

Tony shook his head and drank coffee as dismissively as he knew how, which, for the record, was fucking genius-level.

"32557038 is a person; people make choices and judgments all the time. Sometimes those judgments are bad, and sometimes they're bad in ways that are strongly influenced by past traumatic experiences, but we don't take away people's rights to make those choices."

This was what he wanted, Tony reminded himself, despite the sick churn of his stomach. He needed to get Threetoo safely tucked away in the penthouse where he couldn't find out about the rest of the operation or put anyone other than Tony in danger. 

That didn't change Tony's uneasy sense that it shouldn't be this easy to just waltz out of here with someone as vulnerable as Threetoo. He'd hired these people to _protect_ slaves, not to send them off to the beds of--well, of people like Tony was, outside this place.

"Tell me the answer would be different if you thought I was ever going to fuck him."

"The answer would be different if I thought you were going to rape him," Dr. Fox agreed firmly.

Tony blew out a breath and let his shoulders sag. 

"I still want to meet with him before I sign off on him leaving this unit," Dr. Fox added. "And I'll want to continue to see him regularly--but if he resists meeting with me without you, then I won't press that point until he's ready to speak to me alone."

"Or speak at all." Even when panicked, even when he was shaking with terror in Tony's arms, Threetoo still hadn't made a sound.

"JARVIS can translate if he signs--or he can spell, or we'll set him up with an actual assistive device for communication. However we need to conduct sessions, I want to meet with him and get a better feel for where he's at, and what I might be able to do to help. It's far too soon to be able to diagnose anything, let alone attempt any treatment; he's either barely out of or still in an intensely traumatic situation. All we can really do at this point is give him time and an outlet, and see what he does with it."

Tony nodded slowly. They weren't just letting Threetoo go. They would be checking. When Threetoo got well enough to hate Tony, someone would know. They would get Threetoo away from him even if Tony had lost track of what he was trying to do so badly that he tried to keep him. 

"Every week," Tony said. Just because there wasn't a shrink in the world he could trust with his secrets didn't mean he had no idea how this stuff worked. "At least once a week. Right?"

"At least," Dr. Fox agreed.

* * *

When he'd hammered everything out with the doctors, Tony retreated to his lab. JARVIS assured him that Threetoo was still sleeping, and nothing was going to happen until Dr. Cho and Dr. Fox had both had a look at Threetoo in person--with Tony present, of course.

For now, though, Threetoo was napping and Tony had a reprieve. JARVIS had scanned the tin foil prototype of the thing Rogers wanted and was setting up a mold for it so they could get a perfectly smooth surface. _Sterilizable_.

DUM-E returned from where Tony had sent him, bearing three shoeboxes with actual shoes in them and a plant in a square planter that Tony didn't think he'd ever seen before. Behind all of those, he had the actual box Tony had wanted from his bedroom.

"What are you even doing? Did I say _every box shaped thing you see?_ Go put those back before I--" The usual threat died in his throat. 

DUM-E made an inquisitive noise, tilting his control arm uncertainly. Tony couldn't stop seeing Threetoo looking up at him. _Trusting him_.

"You know what I'll do," Tony said, waving DUM-E off. "Go, go on, you have to be the man of the house while your brother's away."

Butterfingers, supervising the injection mold on the other side of the lab, made an offended noise. 

"Don't you even start," Tony said, digging out the little pins from the drift of change and loose buttons at the bottom of the box and--keys? Actual metal keys? Where had those come from? Tony shook his head and pushed the box aside, laying the pins down on a worktable. 

"JARVIS, scan these for me?"

"Composition of the metal is not immediately apparent," JARVIS reported. "Simple structure, as you see. Only one distinguishing feature."

A vastly magnified pin in glowing green appeared at Tony's eye level, showing that there was a microscopic number engraved into the pin. _12044_. 

"The same number appears on both pins, sir." Tony picked them up, squinting at them. He could make out the etching once he knew it was there, though his fingers couldn't sense the edges. He rubbed one against his lips before he thought about where it had spent the last twenty years. 

"It corresponds to a train route in India, a postal code in Italy, and the date January 20, 1944. Your father was in England at that time."

"And Rogers wasn't born for another forty years, so that doesn't make any sense. What about slave registry numbers, they used to be short, didn't they?" 

Rogers had offered Dr. Cho his serial number. Name, rank, serial number, like a soldier. Howard had worked with plenty of military slaves. Rogers certainly carried himself like he'd gone that route at some point, but Howard had died when he was just a child.

"Pre-1950 registry numbers were indeed commonly five digits. They were assigned sequentially rather than with the modern prefixing system, so there's no way to know just from the number where a person with that registry number would have been enslaved. Registry records from that era have never been systematically digitized, but the number would likely date from 1935."

"So _fifty_ years before Rogers was born." Rogers could be that slave's grandkid. He could be...

Tony paused, letting the familiar cascade of Horrible Surprise Half-Sibling (Half-Nephew?) possibilities wash through his brain. He didn't think Steve was _that_ , though. He was just so... _blond_ , he couldn't possibly share any genes with Tony. And the way he said _Howard_ , like that first name was something he was used to saying...

Tony shook his head. "And the number is nowhere in any of Dad's files?"

"None that I have access to," JARVIS confirmed. "Though most of his notes from the relevant period have _also_ never been digitized."

Tony shook his head, thinking of the dusty boxes and filing cabinets of his father's personal records and notebooks. He'd banished them all to storage in the mansion on Long Island along with most of his parents' personal effects. He hadn't wanted to deal with them in the first months after the accident, and then it was just easier to ignore his parents' things and the house where he'd spent so much of his childhood, letting it all molder away quietly together. It wasn't the sort of thing that he could sic anyone else on, after all--not even Pepper in her most longsuffering days as his PA.

"That's a question for another day," Tony said. "Butterfingers, bring that here." 

Butterfingers rolled over with the fresh hot prototype. Tony glanced down at the pins. "Dr. Cho said plastic or metal, right? Split the difference--this color, make it shine a little. And over here--" Tony tapped one end, pulling up the model to fiddle with. "Right here, etch in--" Tony adjusted the font and curvature until he was satisfied with the way ROGERS looked. 

"And the ring for carrying?" JARVIS prompted.

Tony tilted the prototype this way and that, then shook his head. "Don't know which way he wants to hang it. Put together a little kit--good adhesive and a ring on a swivel. He can attach it where he wants it." 

Tony tossed the prototype at Butterfingers, who, of course, failed to catch it, but industriously scooped it up after a couple of tries. "Melt that down, JARVIS. Don't retain any of these specs once the final product is finished. Have Butterfingers deliver the package to Dr. Cho."

"Yes, sir. Meanwhile--" JARVIS put up a video screen displaying two views of Threetoo--U's camera and a stationary one--with his vital signs displayed below. It was only heart rate and blood pressure without the EEG cap in place, but that was enough to make it obvious that he was waking up. 

Tony watched, poised to run if Threetoo showed signs of distress. Threetoo squirmed around under his blanket and then stretched both arms--Tony could see the stump poke up under the blanket when he raised it--and then his legs. 

Then Threetoo looked over at the bot. U's onboard camera displayed a perfect shot of Threetoo's face, curious but solemn. He raised his hand with two fingers up. _U_. 

U chirped back at him.

Threetoo pointed to the bathroom door. 

U chirped again and rolled back to clear his path, making a flourishing gesture of encouragement. Threetoo nodded and stretched again. He looked at U, looked at the hall door, and then by slow, laborious stages, he stood up.

Tony sat down hard at the stool by his bench; DUM-E rushed over with the fire extinguisher and Tony stopped him with a pointed finger, not taking his eyes off Threetoo in the video. 

He stood very still for a moment, finding his balance, shifting gingerly on his bandaged feet and holding his right arm out to steady himself. His left arm flexed too, instinctively trying to compensate; he listed slightly, trying to center himself despite his heavier right side. 

Threetoo looked different on his feet; it was suddenly obvious that what was left of his starved body was ropy muscle as much as bone. He walked in long, steady strides across the room to the bathroom door, and he looked shockingly like the man Tony had first seen, huddling in a cage and staring fearlessly at a stranger.

He looked like a man whose ability to answer math problems got faster and more accurate the closer they got to calculating trajectories. He looked like a man who couldn't remember where he'd been born but never forgot to factor in gravity and air resistance when calculating the path of an object with a known starting velocity.

And he would crumple right back to his knees when Tony walked through the door. He would crumple even if Tony didn't. Tony could not believe that his fear had been an act, and he trusted the EEG even more than he trusted his own bullshit detector. Whatever Threetoo had been when he was whole, whatever threat his former owners posed, the Machine had been right to send Tony after him as a slave in dire and urgent need of rescue.

That didn't make Threetoo any less dangerous, but it wasn't like danger had ever deterred Tony before.

* * *

Threetoo heard his master come in through the outer door just as he finished washing his hand. He dried it on the soft towel left beside the sink for that purpose, and then reached over and turned the knob of the door. He had to tug it inward before he could put his hand down on the ground, crawling out of the bathroom and into his master's sight.

His master was sitting on the floor, rearranging the blocks Threetoo had used in his test into a narrow tower. Threetoo froze where he was, not wanting to transmit any vibration through the floor that would ruin his master's creation. 

"Hey, Threetoo," his master glanced up, flashing the briefest smile before his attention returned to what he was building. "Come here."

Threetoo slid his hand forward, his eyes flicking rapidly back and forth from his maser's face to the delicately balanced tower. He could not disobey his master's command, but he must not ruin his master's work. He shifted one knee, then the other, slowly, slowly--

The blocks clattered down and Threetoo was still only halfway to his master; he had not obeyed and he had ruined his master's work. He dropped his face to the floor, tensing even as he told himself it would hurt less to go limp.

"Threetoo? Hey, sweetheart, hey, did that--"

He flinched as his master's hand touched the back of his head.

The touch vanished. That was worse--his master hadn't been angry yet, his master maybe only meant to correct him, but Threetoo was _ungrateful_ \--

"Shh, shh, hey, come on, can you look at me? Threetoo, can you look at me? Just open one eye, baby, I know you can do this--"

Threetoo turned his head and opened his eyes, peering at his master through the fall of his hair. His master brushed it back gently, tucking it behind his ear. Threetoo flinched from the soft touch, too tense with anticipation of pain not to.

"Shh, shh," his master repeated, stroking his hair, brushing one thumb over his cheek. "Hey, you're all right. What went wrong there, can you tell me?"

Threetoo shifted his weight back and pointed toward the blocks. 

His master glanced toward them. "The sound--no. Threetoo, you're acting like you think you're in trouble. Do you think you did something bad?"

Threetoo squeezed his eyes shut. There was no safe answer to the question, but his master required the truth. Good data.

He nodded.

"You think... what, you think you knocked them down?"

Threetoo bit his lip hard and nodded again, hoping that would be the last question, that the correction would begin so it could end, so his master could be pleased with him again. 

"They just fell down, Threetoo. They fall down, it's what happens. They're not imp--"

His master cut off sharply. Threetoo didn't even breathe, waiting for his master's decision. 

His master touched his chin with one finger, drawing him to look his master in the eye again. Threetoo hadn't even realized he'd looked away. His master's expression was serious and intent.

"The blocks are not important," his master said slowly and firmly. "But that's not why I won't punish you for knocking them over."

Threetoo's eyes were starting to water as the anticipation stretched. His master seemed to expect a reaction, so Threetoo nodded.

"I won't punish you," his master repeated. "Because you were doing what I asked you to do. And I won't punish you because even if the blocks were important, you're _more_ important." 

Threetoo stared blankly at his master. That didn't make sense; any work his master did, anything his master created, anything worthy of his master's attention had to be more important--

But then, he himself was his master's work, wasn't he? His master judged _Threetoo_ worthy of his attention. Threetoo was his new project.

"Punishment isn't an efficient way to teach, remember? It's counterproductive, it doesn't help people get strong or feel good and safe. Punishing you would get in the way of my own goals."

Threetoo was slowly relaxing as his master's gentle touches continued, even though the words his master was saying seemed almost impossible. Yet his master's word was law, and Threetoo could not do anything but believe him.

"I won't do that to you," his master said softly. "I won't ever, ever punish you for wanting to be where I am."

Threetoo nodded and turned his head quickly enough to kiss the heel of his master's hand.

"Okay," his master said, sitting up. "Now come over here and play building blocks with me."

Threetoo was allowed to lie half in his master's lap, the ugliness of his stump hidden between his master's thighs, as they took turns stacking blocks one on top of another. When the tower started to get tall and wobbly, sometimes his master would knock it down, and sometimes he would nudge Threetoo. 

"Go on. Your turn."

Threetoo looked up at him to be sure he meant it, and when he nodded, Threetoo studied the tower, picking his spot. Then he poked it with a single finger, making the entire tower tumble down. His master laughed every time, and after the second or third time Threetoo felt himself smile.


	4. Chapter 4

After building blocks there was another snack, apple slices and walnuts, while his master was doing something on a tablet. After a while the design his master was working on popped out of the tablet to hang, glowing green, in the air. He looked up at his master, but his master didn't look down at him. 

Threetoo couldn't tell whether the projection was _important_. It was certainly holding his master's attention, preventing him from delivering another crisp sweet slice of apple. Threetoo wasn't hungry--his stomach was beginning to ache a little in the opposite way, in fact--but he wanted his master to look at him, and he wanted to know what would happen if he tried to draw his master's attention.

He raised his hand in a slow steady movement--less likely to be seen than a sudden dart--with one finger extended. His master gave no sign of noticing, and with an inch between his finger and the glowing green lines, Threetoo's hand began to shake. He couldn't do it, not really, but drawing his hand back was as likely to be seen, without any hope at all of pleasing his master by doing something bold and unexpected.

Threetoo's hand hung in the air a long time, until he managed to raise it a little higher. Still not touching the projection, but for a second he was within a couple of millimeters.

Then the whole projection jerked upward, out of his reach, and his master looked down sharply at him, reminded of his existence. 

"Oh, hey, sorry," his master said, as if nothing unusual had happened, as though his master saying _sorry_ was not in itself momentous. "Here you go, good?"

His master popped a thick slice of apple into Threetoo's mouth with one hand, reaching up to tilt the projection to a different angle with the other. Threetoo half-raised his thumb and chewed slowly.

His master kept up a slow, distracted stream of snacks after that, until there was a knock on the door.

"Ah, yes." His master swept the glowing projection out of the way. "That's probably Helen--she's a doctor, she helps me evaluate new slaves and makes sure that the hurt ones heal up well. I need her to take a look at you and see if you're stable enough to move upstairs to the penthouse with me."

Threetoo's heart started beating fast, and he touched his hand to his heart. _Please_.

His master smiled a little but his eyes were steady and serious. "She's going to need to touch you, Threetoo. I'll be with you the whole time, but she has to check stuff out, so she's going to need to touch you, and I want you to try and be as calm as you can while she does."

Threetoo's fingers curled against his chest--he couldn't beg for anything in the face of those orders. He nodded and spelled out _yes master_ with his fingers for good measure. His master's eyes flicked to his fingers, and he petted Threetoo's hair. "Answering in words, excellent, that's--what are we on? Twenty-six?"

Threetoo nodded agreement and signed the number. 

"Twenty-six. Excellent. Helen, come on in."

The doctor--a slim Korean woman in a white lab coat over soft pastel clothes--came in. She had a tablet under her arm, and a wire basket with supplies in it. Things for bandaging, and others he recognized from last night, when his master and Sharon had drawn his blood and attended to his stump. 

U rolled over to the doctor, and she said, "Oh, hello, U," and gave him her basket to hold. She crouched over Threetoo and looked directly at him instead of greeting his master. "Hello, 32557038. I'm Dr. Helen Cho. Has Tony told you that I'm going to examine you?"

Threetoo nodded.

"If you'd rather not be examined today--if you think you will feel too much distress or pain from being examined--we can do this another time, or in another way. You won't be cleared to go up to the penthouse if you're not examined, but you can stay here and Tony can continue to visit you."

Threetoo looked up at his master, who nodded. "Yep. If you're not okay getting examined--or if Helen examines you and decides you need to stay put--then you stay here and we keep working on things here. If you're not ready, you're not ready."

Threetoo licked his lips and considered. Good data. He had to give good data; he couldn't pretend to be ready if he wasn't. 

He wasn't sure how much pain and distress the doctor would think was too much; his master didn't really seem to like him to feel very much at all. But Threetoo thought that if his master would stay with him, he could endure whatever the doctor might do. She didn't have any heavy equipment, nothing electrical. He could bear it. He would prove to her that he could take it. Then he would be allowed to go with his master, to sleep in his master's own home. 

_Ready_ , Threetoo spelled out. He set his hand over his heart, circling to make the gesture overt. _Please_.

The doctor nodded. "If at any time you need a break or need to stop, just do this--" she held up her hand flat, an obvious _stop_ motion. "And I'll stop whatever I'm doing so we can figure out how to work around it. Understood?"

Threetoo nodded and curled his hand into a loose fist, the opposite of _stop_. 

Dr. Cho nodded. "The first thing I would like you to do, then, is to stand up."

She gave him an expectant look. His master said nothing, but he leaned back slightly, as if giving Threetoo space to move. His master wanted him to be examined, to stay calm and allow the doctor to do whatever she required.

He bit back the squirmy, shameful feeling of wrongness, badness-- _unbecoming, undesirable_ \--as he maneuvered himself off his master's lap and crouched awkwardly like a frog. His master was motionless in his peripheral vision, the doctor just as still in front of him. Threetoo set his feet carefully, ignoring the thrill of pain from the healing burns, and straightened up as smoothly as he could. 

It wasn't bad. It was certainly no worse than the last time, when he had tested himself in his master's absence. That had been almost easy--proper, to exercise himself in necessary but undesirable ways while his master couldn't see. This was sickening, dizzying in a whole other way. 

But he was obeying. He was following the doctor's orders. Things were allowed, when a doctor ordered them, that weren't permitted otherwise. That was a bone-deep certainty. 

He raised his chin a little and looked at the doctor. 

"Very good," she said simply. "Close your eyes? Extend your hand to the side? And touch your nose--good. Look at me. I'd like you to walk over to the bed and sit down on it."

A wave of sickness washed through him, but Threetoo kept his expression neutral. He couldn't--mustn't--but he had his instructions. He was to obey the doctor. His master was watching and did not object. And anything his master ordered him to do, no matter how disturbing, Threetoo must do. His master knew that he was a creature meant to crawl; his master wanted to take him up to the penthouse, to keep Threetoo all to himself. He only had to pass this test first.

He watched nothing but his own feet as he walked, step by careful step, to the bed. He turned himself around again and sat on it, just barely managing to keep his descent controlled when he saw that his master was right behind him. His master had followed him every step of the way. 

Threetoo bit down hard on his lip to keep his teeth from chattering as he looked up at his master. His master's eyes were shining; he looked pleased and proud, not disgusted at all. 

His master understood that he could order Threetoo to do _anything_ and he would be obeyed. His master was glad.

"That was good," his master said softly. "That was beautiful. We're not giving that a number, okay, you're getting a reward right now."

Threetoo could only look up at him hopefully, but his eyes closed when his master's hand curled around the nape of his neck. Threetoo went boneless, and his master stepped in closer, tugging Threetoo forward. Threetoo's face was pressed to his master's hip, soft denim against his cheeks and lips while his master's hand cradled the back of his head. He let his shivering bleed away, steadied against his master's body.

When his master let go and stepped back, Threetoo raised his hand and spelled _ready_ again.

* * *

Threetoo clutched Tony's hand in a bruising grip through most of it, but he survived the physical exam without stroking out. Tony was pretty sure Threetoo would pop a blood vessel long before he actually asked for a stop; his absence seizures multiplied, but he didn't go totally frozen again. 

The worst of it was when Dr. Cho had him lay back on the bed so she could do an abdominal exam. She checked Threetoo from groin to solar plexus with a stethoscope and her fingers, talking smoothly about gut sounds and spleen size. Threetoo kept his breathing even, but he shook the whole time like he was being tortured. Tears ran from his eyes with every gentle press of her fingers. 

At one point Dr. Cho's clinical touch softened; after she'd examined his stump and replaced the bandages, she gently squeezed the top of his shoulder. Threetoo relaxed his grip on Tony's hand just enough to flap that hand. Dr. Cho jerked her hand away at once, even before Tony could ask, "What hurts, sweetheart? Where?"

Threetoo pointed to his head. 

Tony winced. "Okay, got it. No more of that kind of touching." He put his own hand where hers had been, and Threetoo relaxed instantly, turning his face toward Tony and looking up at him through wet eyelashes. 

"You're doing really well," Tony assured him. "You're almost done."

When it was all over, Tony figured Threetoo needed some time to decompress. After Helen left he sat down on the bed with a tablet and let Threetoo kneel at his feet, his head on Tony's knee. Tony kept one hand on the back of Threetoo's head while he used the other for boring work things that wouldn't distract him too much from Threetoo--reviewing reports and approving contracts, the irreducible residue of stuff he had to deal with despite Pepper being CEO.

Every time he signed something he felt a familiar little twinge, faded now like an old scar. _Not actually legal. Not actually valid._ Slaves couldn't enter into contracts; slaves couldn't own property. And no amount of money--short of the kind of money that moved _governments_ \--could buy Tony's freedom from a country that handed out irrevocable enslavement as a criminal sentence. A country that was, now, officially a United States ally with mutual enforcement treaties. If anyone knew what Tony was...

He skritched his fingers through Threetoo's hair and signed another contract, glancing at the hovering display to check that Threetoo's heart rate and blood pressure were still at good resting levels. Now that they'd matched up the stutters in his heartbeat with the EEG results, JARVIS was able to identify absence seizures when Threetoo's chip detected the little arrhythmias through his stuttering pulse. 

Three cheers for that particular StarkChip upgrade, a couple of versions back. Tony watched for a solid minute while Threetoo didn't have a seizure, and then got back to work.

At some point Tony noticed the smell of food, and Threetoo stirred against his knee. Tony looked up and realized that U had gone and gotten a tray of food from the dumbwaiter, and that Threetoo was very carefully not looking toward it. Tony pulled up Threetoo's calorie tracker--time for another two hundred, almost the last for the day. And, judging by the amount of food on the tray, probably also time for Tony to eat... dinner? 

Huh. Dinner. He'd passed an entire day in possession of Threetoo. One down, and not more than... three hundred sixty-four to go, tops. Probably more like one hundred seventy-nine. He could do this.

He looked over the selection and discovered that they were trying Threetoo on chicken now, and something even better.

"Oh man, this might just change your life," Tony informed him. "You've leveled up to _crinkle fries_." 

Threetoo looked up at him like he believed that that was an exalted state, and, hey, far from Tony to deprive anybody of slightly crispy salty potato products. He bit one in half to check that it wasn't too hot and fed the other half to Threetoo. His eyes went wide and then squeezed shut in obvious pleasure, and he flashed a redundant thumbs up at the same time. 

Tony couldn't help smiling, and ate another fry himself while Threetoo was occupied in chewing and swallowing.

When Threetoo was halfway through his calorie allotment, JARVIS flashed a reminder at Tony to slow him down a little. Tony sat back and drummed his fingers on the edge of the tray as he looked at Threetoo. "So I've been thinking about your collar."

Threetoo swallowed visibly, but didn't otherwise move to let himself feel the collar. Tony had almost managed to stop seeing it over the course of the day, but when he focused it still gave him a sick feeling in his stomach to see that heavy black leather around Threetoo's throat. If he was going to spend the next 179 days looking at Threetoo--having Threetoo _in the penthouse with him_ \--wearing something around his throat...

"I was thinking it's due for an upgrade." Tony rubbed his thumb against it. Just leather, just a thing Threetoo was wearing. There was nothing magical about it, not even any interesting tech. 

"I mean, nothing against your previous master--maybe this thing is his style, it's certainly... classic. But you belong to me now, and I want you to have a collar that shows that. Something with a little color to it, hm? Something that people see and think _Tony Stark made that_."

Threetoo was actually smiling now, chin up, kneeling straight and tall. He touched his hand to his heart, circling in the gesture that meant _please_. There was nothing for Tony to do except grab a tablet and start modeling. 

"What do you think," Tony said, tipping the screen so Threetoo could watch. "Maybe red? Kind of shiny?"

* * *

Threetoo was dozing at his master's feet, his belly full and his head not hurting at all as it leaned against his master's thigh, when there was another knock at the door. Threetoo looked up at his master, and his master smiled down at him. 

"Okay," his master said. "This is the last thing today. Last test. Emily needs to talk to you, and I need you to talk back to her the best you can, okay? Sign, spell, whatever, but I need you to do your best to answer her questions and tell her the truth."

Threetoo nodded. It felt almost routine now. He spelled out _good data_ to show he understood.

His master's smile widened, accompanied by a squeeze on Threetoo's shoulder. "Yeah, exactly. Emily, come on in."

Emily was a little taller than the doctor who had come in before--a white woman with blue eyes and blonde hair in a messy ponytail. She was dressed much like his master in battered blue jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and her feet were bare. Her right hand held a tablet tucked against her side.

She said, "Hi, Tony," as she came in, but Threetoo's gaze was caught by a quick flicker of the fingers of her left hand. _Wanna talk?_

She hadn't used the carefully-spelled signs he'd been showing his master, numbers and letters anyone could learn. Emily was using slaves' finger signs, quick and fluid and subtle. Threetoo's gaze darted up to her left arm again, but that was no help--did the long sleeve hide a scar, or the absence of a scar? Was she a slave, or had she been one once? Was she trying to catch him out? But then how could she know the signs? 

He ignored the sign--ignoring the sign was the proper response most of the time--and stayed very still between his master's knees.

"Hi, Emily." His master squeezed Threetoo's shoulder. 

Emily dropped her gaze to focus on Threetoo. She sat down in front of him, her legs folded tailor-fashion, and she was small enough that Threetoo had to look _down_ slightly to meet her eyes. His master's hand on his shoulder kept him from slouching lower to dispose of the difference. 

"Hi there, my name is Emily. What's your name?"

Threetoo waved his hand in a polite hello, the same wave he'd used to greet U. He spelled his name using the same number signs he'd shown his master: _3-2_. 

"It's nice to meet you, Three-two," she said, signing the numbers back to him as she spoke them. "I'm here to talk to you, not to your master, so he's not going to say anything else now that I'm here, and I would appreciate it if you didn't look at him while we're talking."

Threetoo felt the muscles of his neck lock up as soon as he was forbidden to look. His master squeezed his shoulder again, and his master's knees tightened a little around his shoulders.

Threetoo nodded. He would obey. He would give good data--uncontaminated data, his own answers and not his master's. His master had told him to answer her, and was complying with her instructions.

"You've been here for a night and a day now," Emily said. "Can you tell me what's been happening so far?"

Threetoo started to look up automatically and caught himself. His master's hand stayed still on his shoulder, and Emily didn't praise him for catching himself or correct him for almost looking. She just waited. 

Threetoo licked his lips and considered, fingers flexing. Some of it he could say a lot faster in slaves' signs than he could spell it out, but not with his master watching. He looked toward the tablet Emily was holding, now balanced on her knee. There was at least one more in the room, but his master had been using it, and Threetoo couldn't look for it without looking toward his master. 

He mimed typing and then pointed to Emily's tablet and signed _please?_.

Emily smiled, and though she didn't say it, it felt like a reward. His master would have given him a smile like that for doing something unexpected; maybe his master was smiling like that right now, where Threetoo couldn't see. "Sure, that would make this quicker, wouldn't it? Here."

She handed over the tablet. The screen showed a keyboard at the bottom, the same arrangement as when he had answered questions for his master. There were also some simple words above it: YES and NO and HELLO and GOODBYE and MASTER and I and ME and YOU. 

Threetoo used the combination of buttons to type out _Master feeds me a lot._

He hit the enter key, not sure what would happen, and the words jumped up in glowing green where Emily could read them. 

They would be backward to his master, and at an awkward angle. Threetoo didn't look to see if he was reading them, if he liked Threetoo's answer.

Emily smiled. "How's that going?"

Threetoo typed _I leveled up to crinkle fries_ , and then, _1 blueberry = 38 tofu_ , and _I have a sweet tooth._

"So, do you have a least favorite food? Is that tofu?"

Threetoo considered carefully and then shook his head and typed out _water_.

"Water!" Emily was smiling like he'd made a joke, and Threetoo smiled back a little. Maybe he had. "Who doesn't like water? What's wrong with it?"

 _Boring_ , Threetoo explained, and rolled his eyes as he made the word appear in the air beside him.

Emily laughed, which mostly covered the sound of his master's breath catching. Threetoo ducked his head, not looking up. 

"So, food. All food all the time since you've been here? Anything else?"

Threetoo dared to make another face and typed, _Tests. Lots of tests._

"Ahh, yes," Emily looked a little more serious. "Can't forget the tests, I know. Were any of them fun?"

Threetoo bit his lip and then typed out carefully _Calculate..._

"You like numbers? Figuring things out?"

Threetoo touched his chin to his chest, fiercely resisting the urge to look up at his master. He had been told to give good data. To tell the truth. He slowly spelled out, _Easy_.

Emily nodded like that made sense. "And were any of them hard? Not fun?"

Threetoo typed out quickly _This one_ , and he glanced at Emily without hitting the Enter key. She looked down, letting him see her look, and smiled slightly, raising her eyebrows. 

Threetoo deleted what he'd typed and replaced it with _Medical_. 

Emily made a sympathetic face when he made the word appear beside him. "I see you have some bandages."

 _Master took care of me_ , Threetoo typed quickly. _I need to heal up._

Emily nodded. "Has Tony told you what to expect after that? After you're healed up?"

 _He wants me to get fat_ , Threetoo typed, thinking of all the pounds and pounds he had to gain before he would be cleared, before he would be good for anything. _Healthy_.

Emily kept watching him, waiting, and Threetoo searched his memory for what his master had said. There were a jumble of things in his head, some maybe just fears, some... other masters, other requirements that he should forget now that he belonged to his master.

Carefully he typed, _He wants me to work right._

Emily nodded again. "And when you're working right? What happens then?"

Threetoo frowned down at the tablet. His master hadn't said anything about that, not in so many words, not the way he'd talked about what they had to do to get there. Still, there were things he knew.

 _I belong to him,_ Threetoo tapped out. _His to touch and use. I will serve him. I will be good and earn rewards. I will wear a shiny red collar._

Emily nodded, like that answer was enough. "When you think about what's coming next--going up to stay in the penthouse with Tony, gaining weight, healing, and then after that, serving Tony, being touched and used--is there a part of that that you're worried about? Any part that might be difficult?"

Threetoo swallowed hard. _I will_ he typed, but he didn't hit enter, just stared at the words. Time was stuttering, he thought, but if he held still enough it was like everything held still--except his master's hand, moving from his shoulder to the base of his skull, rubbing gentle circles.

"You will," Emily read out loud after a while. "You will--do the parts that you're worried about? That will be difficult?"

Threetoo gave a jerky nod. _Master will make me_ , he wrote, and then hesitated over the word. He knew it was true. It had to be true, it could not be allowed to be not true; his master had said it. _Better_ , he finished, and hit enter.

"Are you worried about that part?" Emily asked softly. "Are you worried about becoming better?"

 _Master fixes things_ , Threetoo typed, trying to work around to the truth he had to tell-- _good data_ \--without doubting his master. _Master likes hard work. Master will make me better._

"Do you think that's going to be hard work for your master, making you better?" Emily prodded. 

Threetoo hit the YES button hard, nodding along with it. His master's hand followed his motion, cradling his head as it bobbed. 

"Are you worried about that? About how hard it will be for him?"

His master's breathing stopped behind him, like he was trying very hard now not to say anything. Threetoo's shoulders hunched. 

_He can do it_ , Threetoo insisted. _He can fix things. But I am_

Threetoo stared at the words. _I am_ \--too flatly declarative, but the buttons were right there on the screen, asking to be used. It was the way Emily wanted him to say it. 

"Are you worried about something that you are, Three-two?" Emily prompted gently. 

_Hard to fix_. Threetoo hit the enter key, letting the words hover in the air above his left shoulder. 

"Ahh," Emily said softly. "Threetoo, do you think that maybe--even if your master does everything right, the best that anyone could, maybe..."

The words came into his head, and he curled his fingers away from the tablet to keep from tapping them out. _Fucking fried. Useless. I don't care how we prep that, it can't--_

 _Might not work right_ , he typed finally, then backed up to correct himself. _Might not work 100% right_.

Emily nodded. "Is there anything in particular you think might still not work right, even after your master does everything he can to help you work better?"

Threetoo swallowed and touched the stump of his left arm. Emily nodded; that one was obvious. 

With trembling fingers, he touched his forehead.

Emily raised her eyebrows. 

_Brain_ , he typed, and then he tucked his right hand under what remained of his left arm and closed his eyes, holding back the words echoing in his memory: _that thing can't even--just get rid of it--skull full of Swiss cheese--it's not coming back, I don't care--_

"Three-two," Emily said gently. "We're going to pause our talk right now. I want you to look at your master."

Threetoo cringed, ducking his head lower, and his master's fingers tapped under his chin. "Hey, sweetheart, come here. You don't have to open your eyes, but kneel up for me."

His master didn't sound angry at Threetoo's doubt, and he didn't sound as if he were reconsidering his plans. Threetoo did open his eyes then, looking up as he scrambled onto his knees, twisting around as he did. 

His master's eyes were warm and gentle. When Threetoo was kneeling between his thighs, his master's arms wrapped around him, and his master's lips pressed against his forehead. His master's short beard was rough-soft against Threetoo's skin. 

Threetoo squeezed his eyes shut and shook in his master's grip, overwhelmed. How could he be rewarded for this, for pointing out how damaged he was and doubting his master's abilities all at once? He was useless, he might never--

"You're already good for me, Threetoo," his master said softly. "You already serve me so well. And you know I like challenges. You know I chose you specially, from every slave I could have decided to work on. I didn't pick the ones with both arms, and I didn't pick the ones with perfect brains. I chose you. I know there's a lot of work ahead for both of us, but it's okay. It's okay if it takes time. I'm not going to ask you to be some perfect ideal slave. I just want you to be a healthy Threetoo."

Threetoo breathed in hard through his nose, shoulders hunching at the reminder. His master had already told him these things. He was supposed to remember. He shouldn't have doubted.

"Clearly one of the first things we need to do is practice making sure you know all those things are true. We'll do nice big rewards, touch-rewards or whatever your favorite is, and we'll practice making sure you know this stuff. Can you do that right now? Spell out something you are that makes me want to work on you?"

Threetoo could barely think, his mind so full of the warmth of his master's body wrapped around his, the kindness in his master's voice. He slipped his right hand free and signed an echo of the last thing his master had said he wanted. _3-2_.

His master's laugh was barely audible, just a breath, but Threetoo felt the way it shook out of his chest. "That's right. That's perfect. You're Threetoo, you're my Threetoo, and we're going to make sure you're a good healthy Threetoo."

Threetoo nodded obedient agreement, not at all because it let him rub his face against his master's shoulder. His master's cheek pressed against the top of his head, and his master squeezed him tighter before his grip relaxed.

"Okay," his master said. "Well, first thing we need to do to get you healthy is finish talking to Emily. Are you ready to sit down and un-pause?"

Threetoo leaned into his master for a moment. If he didn't say yes, his master would let him stay here. _If you're not ready, you're not ready._

But he could be ready. He could do this. Threetoo nodded again and turned when his master released him, sitting down to face Emily. His master's knees bracketed his shoulders again, and his master's hand skritched gently through his hair. 

She offered him a tissue, and Threetoo used it to wipe his face and blow his nose. 

"Okay," Emily said. "That was some really good talking about things you're worried about. Now can you tell me if there's anything you think will be your favorite part? Anything you're looking forward to, or that will be easy?"

Threetoo took a shaky breath and smiled, nodding as he settled the tablet on his knee. _Touch rewards. Shiny red collar. Blueberries. Candy. Make master laugh._

Emily smiled. "That's a lot of favorite things! That's good, Three-two. It's good to have things to look forward to."

Threetoo nodded agreement and didn't spell out more--that if he pleased his master very much, the touch rewards might not only be hugs. That his master might allow Threetoo to sleep beside him if Threetoo could be useful to him at the right time, might allow Threetoo to take pleasure at the same time he pleased his master. 

But first he had to heal, and eat and eat and eat. First he had to talk to Emily. 

"So, there are a few more things I have to ask you," Emily said, waving her left hand in a dismissive gesture, except with the slight crook of fingers that meant _look here_. "These are standard things we ask every slave, so they may seem kind of weird or irrelevant, but just answer the best you can, okay?"

Threetoo nodded obediently.

Her fingers crooked into _safe to talk?_ as she asked, "Are you feeling any urges to hurt yourself? Either actively, by causing injuries, or passively, by refusing food or care?"

Threetoo kept his fingers in their neutral posture and shook his head firmly. 

Emily's fingers went neutral and then twitched into the same question: _safe to talk?_

"Do you think anyone around you, anyone you expect to have contact with in the days ahead, might intend to hurt you, either actively by causing injuries, or passively, by denying you food or care?"

Threetoo frowned, considering. The only person he expected to have contact with was his master--perhaps the doctor as well, or Emily herself? But the doctor and Emily were both providing care at his master's instruction, and his master did nothing but repair Threetoo's injuries and feed him and provide care. Those things all served his master's goals for fixing Threetoo. If he had to be punished... but his master didn't like to punish him. His master liked to correct, and teach with rewards.

He felt the phantom echo of the pain in his head, but his master didn't cause that, exactly, even though he could make it stop when he chose. The automated punishment just _was_. 

Threetoo shook his head, and hit the NO button for emphasis, with his hand still in neutral posture. 

"Is there anything you need that hasn't been provided? Any personal supplies or anything?"

Threetoo shook his head quickly. His master had provided all he could need and more--candy, blankets, his collar to wear all night and day, and the promise of a new one. 

"Would you like to come with me to another room to talk privately about anything?"

Threetoo blinked at her. 

"Without your master, or U, or anyone else watching or listening," Emily elaborated. "Would you like to do that?"

Her left hand flickered between _safe to talk?_ and _wanna talk?_

Threetoo shook his head, spreading his fingers wide in pointed, insistent neutrality before he tapped out _Talk here is good. With master. And U._

Emily smiled. "Okay. I'll come and talk to you again in a few days then, all right? See how you're doing up in the penthouse."

As she spoke, Emily's left hand twisted in the gesture every slave knew, one that made a strange tingling run down Threetoo's spine. It could mean _goodbye_ , or _later_ , or _someday_ , or _never_.

It meant _when freedom comes_ , and no slave who recognized it denied it to another slave. Not if he could possibly return it, not if he wasn't in too much danger to risk it. 

Threetoo wasn't in danger. Freedom would never come for him--he was not that kind of slave, he never would be--but still he knew, somewhere inside, that it was important for other slaves to be free. Emily, if she had ever been a slave, deserved to be free. And--others. Other slaves; good slaves. They should be free. And he could not deny another slave that recognition, not even if it meant following them into a trap.

He turned his hand, echoing her sign wrong-handed, the only hand he had. _When freedom comes_.

Emily's smile widened. "Okay, good. I'll see you in a few days, Threetoo. As far as I'm concerned, you're all set now to move upstairs."


	5. Chapter 5

It happened quickly after that, even more quickly than he had been passed from his old master to the new. His master went to the door first, leaning out to look around.

"U," he called first, and the robot went to him. "Go get your big brother, I want both of you in the penthouse."

U chirped affirmatively and rolled out of the room, and then his master looked at Threetoo.

"Anything you want to bring along when we go upstairs?"

Threetoo looked around. U had taken the tablets and blocks, and all the food was cleared away. Whatever his master wanted him to have would be upstairs, and--

Threetoo's gaze fell on the cage. He had ceased to notice it hours ago, the way he had paid no particular attention to the walls or the closed cupboards. If his master wanted to cage him, his master would have obtained his own cage. _That_ cage...

That cage would not make him feel safe, or good. It would not help him heal or work right. That cage was not useful for his master's purposes.

Threetoo looked up to meet his master's gaze and deliberately shook his head.

"Okay." His master leaned out and checked the hallway one more time. "Come on, Threetoo, let's go."

Threetoo crawled to him, holding his head up to show his collar, his back a perfect straight line. No one was in the hallway to see, but Threetoo's posture was perfect, and he stayed exactly beside his master's heel as they crossed to the elevator. He had come this way before, wheeled on a cart in his cage, covered with a blanket. Filthy, hidden. But now he wore his master's collar, and followed at his master's heel under his own power, for anyone to see. 

Threetoo sat on his haunches at his master's side as the elevator climbed, fast and smooth. His master ruffled his hair, and Threetoo flushed with happiness. 

Then the elevator stopped and the doors slid open on a vast open space. 

"Home sweet home," his master said, stepping out.

Threetoo followed him onto a smooth marble floor, cool and hard under his knees and hand. His master paused there, and Threetoo stared around the curving space. There was a huge arc of windows, looking out on--down onto--the city. A set of stairs led up to a stone-railed balcony. A wall to his left cut off part of the space, a different arc gracefully intersecting the main one. Straight ahead there was a living area, chairs and a long arcing couch on a thick, soft carpet.

There were cushions on the floor: one by the couch, another by a particular armchair that looked more used than the others. Places for him to sit or kneel by his master, as if Threetoo would need more comfort than that plush carpet would provide. 

"Bedroom is upstairs," his master said, leading the way around the curving path of the hard, smooth floor, following the wide arc of windows. The sky, where it wasn't washed into featureless orange by the city lights, was a deep, dark blue. Threetoo glimpsed thick green-- _Central Park_ \-- _summer_ \--and then focused his attention on the stairs ahead.

They were the same hard, smooth stuff as the floor, but a two-foot path down each edge had been padded. His master said nothing as he reached the stairs, but he walked close enough to the padding that Threetoo couldn't maintain his correct position without setting his hand and knees on it. It was a kindness going up; coming down it would be a mercy beyond telling. 

His master had thought of him in this. He had thought of all these things. Threetoo tilted his chin higher and climbed at his master's side.

There was a smaller lounge area upstairs; all the furniture in this one was set directly on the hard floor, but there were cushions again, and a single rug, thoroughly out of place, in front of a fireplace. Threetoo imagined being permitted to lie there when a fire was burning and shivered all over with happy anticipation. 

His master ruffled his hair again and walked toward the fireplace. He sat down on the hearthstone and gestured Threetoo to the rug. Threetoo sank down onto it when his master waved his hand. 

"I told you no one else comes up here," his master said. "No other slaves, no servants. But--"

Threetoo heard a little sound from somewhere on this upper level, and a whir of robot wheels. 

"You're not going to be totally on your own," his master said. "U's going to be here with you when I'm not, to help out with anything you need help with."

U rolled into view from a hallway with another, similar robot trailing after him. _Your big brother_ , his master had said, though the new robot seemed slightly smaller than U. Older, then?

"DUM-E," his master spelled out the name in stilted signs as he said it, "is absolutely forbidden from being here with you when I'm not." 

The second robot bumped into a chair, knocking it out of its position, then swung too quickly to try to correct and knocked it further away. 

His master sighed. U herded DUM-E away from the chair and righted it; DUM-E just barely avoided colliding with the opposite wall. 

"I wanted you to see DUM-E because he's the first robot I ever built and programmed," his master said. "I made him when I was just a kid, not very good at making robots yet."

Threetoo looked over at DUM-E and then up at his master.

"It's been more than thirty years," his master said, looking over at DUM-E. "And as many times as I've told him I would, I've never broken him down for parts or sold him to a car wash."

Threetoo blinked, looking over at the clumsy robot. It chittered to itself, and U rolled over to bump companionably against it. 

_Reprogram_ , Threetoo spelled out with his fingers, making it a question with his face. The next words went from his memory to his fingers almost without him knowing them. _Wipe, start over?_

His master gestured to DUM-E. "Believe me, if I'd ever done that, he wouldn't be like this. I've learned a lot better since then. But DUM-E is how I made him to begin with--that's _who_ he is. If I changed him to be a perfect bot, he wouldn't be DUM-E anymore."

Threetoo blinked rapidly. He couldn't help understanding. For thirty years, his master had kept a defective robot active, because it was first. Because it was special. Because it was his work.

 _DUM-E_ , Threetoo spelled out. _3-2_.

His master smiled. "Everyone I've talked to and everything I know about how brains work is in agreement on this: it's way too early to know how much better you're going to get. But I think you are going to get better, and no matter what, you're going to be my Threetoo."

Threetoo rolled onto his side, curling toward his master, and touched his forehead to the toe of his master's shoe. 

"Okay," his master said softly, squeezing the back of his neck and then ruffling his hair again. "Yeah. Come on, not much further to the bedroom--DUM-E, _don't move_."

Threetoo pushed himself up on his three limbs and followed his master down the little hallway. He spotted the door to the elevator the robots had used, and his master waved at two other doors, saying, "Guest room there, I'll warn you if anyone's going to stay there, and that's an office I don't--well, I haven't used it much, but maybe I will now that you're here. When I do go in there I'll probably lock the door, so you'll know not to come in."

Then they came around a curve and passed through another door, into an obvious master suite. A wide, high bed dominated the room, and beyond it was another arc of windows.

There was no rug by the bed, no cushion. Threetoo looked at its surface and thought hopefully that there was plenty of room for him at its foot. But his master was leading him past it without remarking on it, away from the windows to an interior wall with more doors. 

"Bathroom," his master said, pointing to the central one. "Same rules as before, you use that any time you need--there are more downstairs and--" his master waved back the way they had come. "U can show you which one is closest, or--"

His master stopped speaking sharply and then waved to the further door. "Closet, clothes, shoes, blah blah. And _this_ is the bedslave's room. Your room."

Threetoo followed his master through the door and into a cozy little space. The whole floor was carpeted in deep red plush, and the far wall was covered by a curtain while the nearer ones were painted sunny yellow. There was a shelf and a small chest of drawers. 

"You can keep stuff in those," his master said, waving his hand toward the empty surfaces. "I'd like it if you didn't wear your collar in here at night, okay? Your skin needs a rest from it. But you can keep it on the shelf there or in a drawer, so you know it's there. If I take it off you now--" His master flipped his thumb down, up.

Threetoo held his hand up, thumb exactly level. If his master wished him not to wear his collar he wouldn't; that was not a reward, not a punishment. 

His master nodded and crouched beside him, quickly unfastening his collar. When he finished, he held it in front of Threetoo.

"Take this," he said. "Put it where you want it. In the morning I'll put it back on you, at least until we get your new collar fixed up."

Threetoo took the collar gingerly in his hand and shuffled on his knees over to the shelf. He carefully positioned the collar on its edge, buckle to the front, where he would be able to see it if he lay by the opposite wall. He tilted his head back and forth, feeling his hair brush against the bared skin as if that strip of his body was entirely new. 

"Now if you look up..."

Threetoo looked up and discovered a skylight, revealing a darkening blue sky with pinpricks of light that might be stars or planets or airplanes. 

"In the daytime it might get too bright, and you might want to blank the skylight." His master cleared his throat. "What you can do then is ask JARVIS--JARVIS, opaque the skylight."

The skylight faded to white, blending into the ceiling almost invisibly, and a British-accented voice from nowhere said, "Done, sir."

Threetoo blinked up at his master.

"You try it," his master prompted. "JARVIS," his master spelled the name with signs, this time a little more smoothly, "is an artificial intelligence--a way smarter and more independent version of one of my robots, except instead of a dinky robot body, he's got this entire building and a few data centers. He mostly runs the place, but there's hands on stuff that U will be more helpful with."

Threetoo looked up at the ceiling, waved hello, and spelled out _JARVIS_.

"Hello, 32557038," JARVIS said. "It is a pleasure to see you looking better."

Threetoo looked to his master to explain that, and he promptly did. "JARVIS helped me keep an eye on you when we were downstairs--he's better at interpreting signs than I am, so he made sure I understood correctly what you were saying."

Threetoo's face heated, but his master showed no sign of having noticed--or being angry if he had noticed--the slaves' signs Threetoo had exchanged with Emily. Perhaps JARVIS hadn't understood those either. JARVIS wasn't--could never have been-- a slave, after all.

 _JARVIS_ , Threetoo spelled out, looking up. _Open skylight_. He added the circling sign for _please_ over his heart.

The skylight faded back into view, and JARVIS said, "There you are, 32557038. You should also be aware that although there is a roof garden above this level, your skylights are polarized from the outside, so you will not be visible to others through them."

Threetoo dragged his gaze from the skylight to his master, who was watching him intently. _Skylight...s?_ Threetoo spelled out carefully. 

His master nodded and gestured toward the curtain covering the far wall. "Take a look."

Threetoo crawled over and pulled the curtain back. The wall he'd seen under the lower edge of the curtain was only as high as a bathtub's edge--he could easily get over it without standing, into the whole other room revealed on the other side. The floor of that inner room wasn't carpeted, but padded. The walls were a cool gray, interrupted only by a narrow shelf on the far wall, which held a steel water bottle set beside a strange little spigot, a faucet with no taps and no sink. 

Threetoo looked up and discovered another skylight, matching the one in the first part of the room. The view of the sky was irregularly shaped from this skylight--the dark shape silhouetted against the darkening sky shifted slightly, and Threetoo recognized leaves. _Roof garden_ , JARVIS had said. He would be able to see a tree, or bushes. Something green, right above his head.

He looked back at his master, who was crouching again, looking at him nearly level. "That's your area to sleep, or to be by yourself when you want to. JARVIS has no cameras on that side of the curtain, so when you pull it shut he can't see you. I can't see you. That area is yours, and I won't come in there unless you specifically invite me. That area is for you."

Threetoo looked back at it and then carefully climbed over the low wall and into the little box that was his. He inspected the bottle and spigot first, looking back at his master only to be waved on. When he put the bottle under the spigot, cool water ran out; as soon as he moved the bottle away, the flow stopped, not even dripping. He drank a little water from the bottle--still boring, but pleasantly cool and wet after crawling all over the penthouse.

When he'd had enough to drink, he put the bottle back on the shelf and lay down on the padded floor. He stretched out his limbs, but neither his hand nor his feet touched the sides. He rolled back up to his knees and signed _please_ , making the movement big and quick, then beckoned with one hand. For good measure he spelled _master_ and signed _please_ again. 

His master was already at the edge of Threetoo's space when he got that far, smiling as he sat down on the lip of the box and leaned in to ruffle Threetoo's hair. "You like it?"

Threetoo nodded eagerly. 

"Okay, well, this seems like a good time to give you some rewards. This place is pretty empty, right?"

Threetoo blinked and looked around the beautiful, comfortable space, padded and clean, with a curtain and skylight and his own water. 

"U," his master called.

The robot whirred through the door dragging a huge red sack after him. It wasn't velvet, but it should have been.

 _Santa_ , Threetoo thought.

"What number were we at?" His master asked. "Twenty-eight, right?"

Threetoo nodded, dazed, as U rolled right up to his master's side. His master reached into the mouth of the sack. 

"One." His master pulled out a pillow with a neat white pillowcase. Threetoo's hand shook a little as he reached for it, accepting it from his master's hand. He pressed it to his chest, hiding his face against the clean cotton softness of it for a moment. 

"Two," his master said, and something light and cool settled over him. Threetoo raised his head to find he was draped in a matching sheet, and he pushed it off and then turned to lay it out over the padded floor, setting the pillow down at one end and smoothing it carefully. A bed, a _bed_ of his own, and--

"Three." Threetoo turned as his master tossed in another pillow, this one a big squishy square, brightly patterned: red with gold stars on one side, shiny gold with red stars on the other. Threetoo grinned at the gaudiness of his master's favorite colors.

"Four, five, six--" his master pulled out more pillows, two of them great big body-long things, one blue and one gray, followed by a small pillow covered in bright pink fur, so soft that Threetoo couldn't help rubbing his face against it.

"Seven, eight, nine--" A comforter, thick and soft as a cloud, a knit blanket, another pillow, this one covered with something that had a velvety texture in black and gray stripes. Threetoo blinked rapidly and realized his eyes were watering.

His master was still rattling off numbers and dropping things into the box from the slowly deflating sack. Threetoo was in danger of being buried under pillows of every shape and size, every texture and color, blankets of every description. He spread them around the little box and they filled it up, leaving him perched on a mound of irregular softness. 

"Twenty-five," his master said, and gave him one more cushion, pale purple, very firm compared to the others and giving off a slightly spicy smell like flowers and herbs. "Lavender, supposed to be soothing? If you don't like the smell you can--"

Threetoo hurriedly laid it down right on top of the soft white pillow at the top of the box. 

"Twenty-six," his master said, and held out a square pot with a leafy green plant growing from rich black soil. 

"You're responsible for that," his master informed him. "You have to keep it watered."

Threetoo cradled it against his chest, knee-walking over and through the pillows to set it up on the shelf by the bottle and the tap. 

"And, twenty-seven," his master said when Threetoo returned to his side. He unfolded a pair of sunglasses and set them on Threetoo's face. "So you can lie here and work on your tan without going blind."

There was a pause. Threetoo waited for his master to continue on to twenty-eight, but he only smiled and tucked Threetoo's hair back, behind his ears and the sunglasses. Sheltered behind the tinted lenses, Threetoo looked around again, and it caught up with him--this ridiculous stack of rewards, all earned in one day, all given so easily, all for him, because his master wanted him to be--to be--

Threetoo's chest heaved as tears ran from his eyes. In the waiting silence, a high sob burst from his throat, unmistakably audible.

His master's eyes went wide. He lifted the sunglasses up to perch on top of Threetoo's head. Threetoo tried to shake his head, tried to nod, and another high-pitched helpless sound escaped him. 

"That's good," his master said softly, cupping Threetoo's cheek brushing at tears with his thumb. "Hey, that's so good, that's--that's definitely a sound, huh? That means you get a hug reward. Come here."

Threetoo nodded so fiercely his sunglasses tumbled off his head. Before he could try to retrieve them his master leaned over, wrapping his arms around Threetoo and pulling him up into his master's lap. 

His master's arms gathered him close, and Threetoo went limp, his head on his master's shoulder, face pressed to his throat. He swallowed between sobbing breaths, but the tightness in his throat didn't choke him. Other little sounds escaped from time to time. His master made low, encouraging noises when they did, rubbing his back and tucking back his hair again and again.

"Okay," his master murmured softly after a while. "Okay. It's been a long day, huh? Tomorrow will be simpler. So you're going to get some sleep here, and if you need anything you can stick your hand out and sign to JARVIS, or throw your water bottle or knock on the wall, because my bed's right outside and I'll hear you. Okay?"

Threetoo nodded but also snuggled closer, not wanting his master to go. His master huffed and gave him a squeeze, then twisted and dumped him--gently, so gently--into his pile of pillows. Threetoo smiled up at him, feeling his whole body weighted with exhaustion. 

"Drink some more water," his master directed, ruffling Threetoo's hair. "And if you need to pee or anything, remember, bathroom's right next door. And if anything in there gets dirty, you can just put it back in the red bag to be cleaned, and U will bring it back to you when it's done. Okay?"

Threetoo nodded and swallowed again. He could feel the potential in his throat now. Every breath might be a sound, if...

His master stood and turned away, and Threetoo struggled up to his knees among the pillows. 

He opened his mouth and the word he needed fell out, as if it were easy. "Master."

His master stopped and stood still for a few seconds, not looking toward him. Threetoo's hand tightened on the lip of the bed-box, waiting.

His master turned half toward him. "Yeah, Threetoo?"

It was harder to speak with his master's eyes on him--without the desperate need to make him look back before going out the door--but Threetoo managed it.

"Thank you. Sir."

His master smiled slightly. "You earned every bit of it, Threetoo. You've been very good today--very brave, and you worked very hard."

Threetoo gave a jerky nod. He opened his mouth but couldn't find any more words to shape. 

"'Sir,' I like that," his master added. "Stick with that one, okay? That one gets rewards--that makes, what. Two now?"

Threetoo nodded and held up his fingers. _Two_.

His master snorted and echoed the sign, his fingers spread wide enough to mean _2_ or _V_ or--the third interpretation occurred to Threetoo with a jolt-- _peace_.

His master turned away without another word, and this time Threetoo didn't call him back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can [like or reblog this fic](http://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/140186773339/lying-on-a-marshmallow-dira-sudis-dsudis) on Tumblr, and check out the awesome teddy bear fanart by feanorinleatherpants at the same time!


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